


When Worlds Collide

by ReadmePlz



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Mild Language, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23153092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadmePlz/pseuds/ReadmePlz
Summary: After hunting a nest of Harpies, Geralt and Jaskier are attacked by Nilfgaurd soldiers led by Fringilla. Nilfgaurd wants Gerlt to claim his Child Surprise and hand her over to Nilfgaurd before they invade. Geralt has little choice but to agree, however Jaskiers' poor attempt to save both the Child Surprise and Geralt leads The Witcher to a strange new world and an equally strange adventuring party.And this would be one of the top 3 reasons why Gerlt hates Portals.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 117





	1. A Contract Gone Wrong

_**I own Nothing.** _

_**After watching the Netflix adaption of The Witcher I came up with this story Idea and have been on the fence on whether or not to post it. I love the series, both game, tv, and books however I also love D &D...and this was the result. Enjoy and please let me know what you think in the comments below.** _

* * *

Geralt trudged back to camp with a severed head of a Harpy in one hand and a bloodied silver sword in the other. He was limping slightly and every bit of movement made him want to grunt in pain. He had been hired to deal with a group of Harpies that had taken to nesting in a forest outside a small village. The villages used the forest as a hunting ground and to also breed domesticated animals like Cabu. The pesky things had become a problem as they attacked both Humans and animals, anything that entered the forest was now game for the Harpies, and villages relied on the hunting grounds for there food.

It was the same story Geralt had heard countless times before. Winter was not long off the villages needed the meat from the forest to survive, so they had scrambled what little coin they had and hired Geralt to deal with the problem.

Initially, the villages assumed it had only been a small nest, two or three harpies at most. But when the Witcher arrived at the nest he found there were at least a dozen and several of the Harpies were pregnant. This made it even more dangerous but Geralt had been able to kill them all making the forest safe once again.

Geralt looked down at the large clawed gash on his side, thankfully the potions he had taken had stopped the bleeding but he would need several days at least to recover. The rest of his armor was practically no longer usable either as the harpies had torn through it and had left more than a few holes. It was only thanks to Geralt's mutations and an overdose of Potions was he able to keep up with the dammed things and he was seriously considering charging the village extra for new Armor or to at least cover the cost of an inn until he recovered.

It took about an hour of painful walking to get back to where and his bardic companion Jaskier had set up camp. Geralt would normally have Roach with him but he left it at camp for the horses' safety also if Jaskier got into trouble then he would stand a chance of getting away. 

As he lumbered into the campsite Geralt noted that it was quiet, he couldn’t hear Jaskier idly strumming his lute or practicing his songs. He couldn’t hear the bard trying out new lyrics or rhymes from previous adventures.

His yellow cat-like eyes quickly scanned the camp for any sign of the bard but or clue as to where he had gone. Geralt spied Jaskiers lute leaning next to a log and there was an open notebook next to it with a rock holding it in place. Geralt narrowed his eyes, Jaskier never left his lute behind or his songbook…ever.

“Jaskier?” the Witcher called out, hoping the bard hadn't gone too far. He waited a moment before shouting the bard's name again. “Fuck,” Geralt swore when he didn’t get a response.

It was unusual for Jaskier to not be at camp or nearby to whatever Geralt was hunting lurked. Normally the bard would wait outside a cave or at the base of the hill. Eger to get the story for his next balled out of Geralt and it was about as far as Geralt would allow the bard near monsters.

However, since Geralt was hunting Harpies and they tended to have a taste for human flesh and they could fly, it wasn’t safe for Jaskier to be anywhere near the Harpies nest. Also, the closest town was a three-day trek and while Geralt would have been happy to leave the bard to his own devices in town Jaskier preferred to stay near the Witcher.

Jaskier had naturally protested about being left behind and so far away from the action, however when Geralt explained that Harpies could not only fly but swoop down and tear him apart with their talons in mid-air Jaskier had immediately insisted that he stay at camp and camp be made as far from the nest as possible.

The fact that Roach was still here as was Jaskiers lute told the Witcher that Jaskier hadn’t fled the camp and seeing as the tents were still up indicated that the bard hadn't been attacked by wild animals either.

Though Geralt knew that was likely due to the nearby harpy nest as Harpies fed on any flesh, they could get so it was likely they had chased all the predatory animals away. Suddenly Geralt heard a twig snap behind him, he whirled around but as soon as he did an arrow pierced his shoulder.

“GHAAA!!!” Geralt cried out as he stumbled back a bit. He was already dealing with an enormous amount of pain but it had just been made much worse with the added addition of an arrow.

Geralt dropped the harpy's head and reached up to pull the arrow out of him but before he could a second arrow whizzed through the air and embedded itself in his leg.

“Fuck,” Geralt cursed as he was forced onto one knee. He scanned the tree line looking for the archer who had shot him. Instead of a single dark-skinned female wearing a pale grey Nilfgaardian mages robe. She had an I’m better than you look in her eye and looked down at Geralt as she approached.

Geralt slowly tried to rise to his feet however the moment he did the woman flicked her hand and Geralt was flung through the air, losing his silver sword. He crashed into a nearby tree. He grunted and groaned as he landed on the ground.

Geralt hated mages. But he was a Witcher, he could endure any pain and torture. Geralt could also feel the last remints of the Swallow potion he drank earlier trying to heal him. The Witcher knew it would not last long but if it was just one mage then he might be able to beat her and recover.

Even though he would never admit it, Geralt was worried about Jaskier. He still had to find out what happened to the bard.

As Geralt once again attempted to push himself up he heard the sounds of heavy boots and armor. A second later a regiment of soldiers stormed into the camp. He looked around doing a quick count.

There was at least a dozen all armed and their swords were drawn. This wasn’t good, he suspected there might be more hiding in the trees, or at least there would be some archers since none of the soldiers in the camp had any bows on them.

Geralt had not expected such a strategic ambush. It made him wonder what he had done to garner Nilfgaard’s attention, after all, he hadn't taken any contracts from them and most Witchers tended to steer clear of Nilfgaard territory unless necessary.

Tuning back to the woman who Geralt assumed was in charge. He glared at her.

“Can I help you?” Geralt asked.

The woman walked up to Geralt again but stopped a few feet in front of him and looked down at him with an unimpressed and disappointed look on her face.

“Geralt of Rivia I assume,” the woman said, her voice was sharp but also held a tone of condensing.

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Geralt demanded.

“I am Fringilla, magical advisor, and sorceress to the king of Nilfgaard,” Fringilla introduced “and what I want from you is for you to give me your child,”

Geralt blinked a few times in confusion. He wasn’t sure if he heard correctly.

“You want my what?” Geralt asked.

“Your child, you will give it to me,” Fringilla demanded.

“Hmm…you could at least buy me dinner and a few drinks first,” Geralt joked.

The woman did not look impressed or laugh. She raised her hand and Geralt was flung across the campsite once more. This time crashing face-first into one of the tents.

“I am in no mood for jokes,” Fringilla said with a warning tone.

Geralt rolled over onto his back with a groan and breathed heavily. He tried to sit up but several soldiers pointed out the tips of there blades at his chest. Daring the Witcher to try something. Geralt lifted his head and assessed the situation this woman didn’t have a sense of humor.

“Lady I don’t know what you’ve heard but I’m a Witcher. Witcher’s can’t have children, the mutations made me sterile,” Geralt claimed “and I certainly didn’t have any kids before I was mutated,”

“I know Witchers are sterile, what do you take me for? Some peasant farmer?” Fringilla scoffed “I am talking about your child of surprise,”

This made Geralt jerk his head upwards and look directly at Fringilla. What would Nilfgaard want with his child surprise? More importantly, how did they know about it?

“How do you know about that?” Geralt asked with a dangerous tone.

“Nilfgaard knows many things,” Fringilla claimed.

“Then you know I don’t have the child, I never claimed them nor do I want them,” Geralt said firmly.

“I am aware, which is why we are going to escort you to Cintra, there you will claim your child surprise and hand them over to me,” Fringilla demanded “do this and we can all go our separate ways,”

“No,” Geralt responded.

“No?”

“No, I will not claim that child, no child should be separated from their parents,”

“That is not your decision to make. Destiny has chosen to give you a child and you will claim it and seeing as you don’t want it I will relieve you of your burden,”

“Fuck Destiney and fuck you,” Geralt said.

“If you think Queen Calanthe is just going to let me waltz in there and take her grandchild then you know nothing about her at all,” Geralt said seriously.

“She will have no choice, destiny has revealed its hand,”

“She believes in destiny as much as I do,” Geralt scoffed and lay his head back down “you're wasting your time, you’d have better luck taking Cintra by force then breaking up that family,”

“I see, so it is safe to assume you won’t be complying, even if I offered you 1,000 crowns?” Fringilla offered.

“Let me make it clearer for you. Fuck off,” Geralt said.

“pitty then we shall have to take more drastic measures,” Fringilla sighed. Geralt didn’t want to know what the mage meant by taking more drastic measures. But Fringilla raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

Geralt tensed, expecting to be hit with more magic, however, nothing happened. Instead, two more soldiers entered the camp. They had a bound bruised and gagged Jaskier between them. The bard's eyes went wide with relief when he saw Geralt and the guards threw Jaskier to the ground.

Geralt's’ eyes zoomed in on the bruising near Jaskier’s eye and his split lip, it looked like the Nilfgaardian soldiers had beaten him a bit. Likely when he tried and failed to flee the campsite. Now the bards missing presence made sense, the Nilfgaardians had taken him.

Geralt balled his fists in anger at seeing Jaskier hurt. He didn’t like nor desire to kill humans and he tried not to get involved but that was no longer an option. He tried to send a look to say it would be all right and that he would handle the situation.

“Now then, shall we try this again? Claim your child for Nilfgaard or your bard dies…slowly,” Fringilla said in a deadly tone. As if on cue one of the men who brought Jaskier out pulled him back by his hair and pressed a dagger to his throat.

Jaskier let out a muffled cry of panic and stared at the blade fearfully before his eyes flicked back at Geralt.

“Stop it,” Geralt shouted. “He has nothing to do with this,”

“That’s not what I hear,” Fringilla said. “I hear that Witcher’s don’t have feelings, that they are incapable of caring for anything but coin. I wonder if that’s true,”

Fringilla looked over her shoulder at the man holding Jaskier.

“Take him into the woods and kill him in the slowest most painful way you know. But ungag him first,” Fringilla ordered. She then turned to look back at Geralt “I want the Witcher to hear him scream,”

The two men nodded and they pulled Jaskier to his feet. One held him up while the other ungagged him and then started to pull him out of the camp.

“Gods no, please…Geralt help me,” Jaskier begged as he was dragged away.

“Stop, let him go or I will kill you and all your men,” Geralt threatened but Fringilla merely laughed.

“Now we both have something the other wants, I want your child of surprise and you want that sorry excuse for a bard to live,” Fringilla stated “though I have no idea why,”

“So, it’s time to choose, who is more important. A child you don’t want and have never met or a bard who follows you around like a lost puppy?” she demanded.

Geralt didn’t answer.

“Think quickly Witcher, my men and I aren’t known for our patience,” Fringilla warned.

Geralt looked over towards Jaskier and the bard seemed to now understand what the Nilfgaardian wanted.

“Geralt don’t, forget about me,” Jaskier tried “Don’t give them the child,”

Hesitation filled Geralt's’ face if he let Jaskier die then Nilfgaard would lose there the only advantage and given enough time he could take them out and escape. Unfortunately, the mage seemed to pick up on Geralt's thoughts and responded accordingly.

“You know what I changed my mind, don’t take the bard,” Fringilla ordered. The men dragging Jaskier stopped and looked at each other and then at the mage in confusion. Jaskier breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to be tortured to death.

“Kill the bard right here, right now in front of the Witcher,” Fringilla ordered.

The men dragged Jaskier over to Fringilla and the mage moved aside so Geralt would have a good view. The soldiers surrounding Geralt inched their blades ever closer to the Witcher’s' neck. One of the men threw Jaskier to the ground and held him there with his boot and drew a small knife. Jaskier squirmed under the boot but could not get away and the guard raised his knife and plunged it downward.

“Alright fine…I’ll do it. I’ll give you my child surprise,” Geralt yelled out.

Fringilla waved her hand and the guard appeared to have frozen in mid-strike; with the blade inches above Jaskiers heart. The bard breathed a sigh of relief but still stared in fear at the frozen Nilfgaardian out of fear he would start moving again. 

“Wonderful, so glad you can be reasonable,” Fringilla said happily “Let him up,”

The soldiers all took a few steps back but didn’t sheathe their blades, Geralt glanced at Jaskier as he stood up; though it was painful for Geralt as he could no longer feel the effects of his swallow potion. It was clear that there was no way he could free the bard or himself before a fatal blow would be struck. He did not trust this mage to not release the guard and have him finish the job.

“If you or any of your men touch him. I will kill you,” Geralt growled. To his credit, Fringilla looked frightened and that she believed him.

“As long as you co-operate, he will not be harmed. After all, I have no use for a dead hostage,” Fringilla assured.

Fringilla turned away from Geralt and raised her arms and did a circular motion and a portal appeared in front of her and Geralt. As it was still forming, Geralt glanced over to Jaskier and saw the bard wiggle himself out from under the frozen guard’s boot and inch away from him. The other guard didn't appear to care if Jaskier was under the boot or not. But he was close enough to kill Jaskier should the Witcher try anything.

“Is this a bad time to mention that I hate Portals?” Geralt asked, “Couldn’t we just ride to Cintra?”

“No,” Fringilla responded and focused on her portal. Geralt turned his attention back to the portal as it finished forming and reviled the familiar-looking walls of Cintra.

“This portal will take you to a hill overlooking, Cintra’s walls. You have 24hrs to collect your child and bring her back to the spot you arrived. I will open the portal then, should you not be there we will torture your bard to death and send you his remains piece by piece,” Fringilla threatened.

Geralt nodded in understanding. He took one last long look at Jaskier who was now standing and looking with pleading eyes towards the Witcher. Geralt turned back towards the portal. He moved to step into it, he hated portals in general.

However just as he was about to step through Fringilla was suddenly tackled to the ground by Jaskier and she lost her focus. Instead of Cintra the portal now momently viewed a swirling bright multi-colored abyss.

Before either, Geralt or the guards could react Jaskier jumped up and shoved Geralt through the portal and Fringilla screamed in rage as the unstable portal closed behind the Witcher.

“Foolish bard, what have you done?” Fringilla roared in anger.

“Saving my friend from you,” Jaskier said smugly “you can’t claim the child without Geralt. This way you lose,”

He didn’t know much about Magic or portals. However, he had spent considerable time with Geralt and by association Yennefer and Triss Marigold. While Jaskier was not overly fond of Yennefer he didn’t mind Triss. She was nice and unlike Yennifer or Geralt, Triss had an appreciation for his bardic talents. Triss had even had tried to teach Jaskier a bit about how magic worked.

One visit, Jaskier had asked about portals Triss had explained that portal magic connected two different places and allowed travel. If the concentration was broken the portal would become unstable for a brief moment and close.

Jaskier had asked what happened if someone went through and unstable portal but Triss wasn’t sure. She assumed that they would wind up in a random location between the two points; at least that was the theory anyway as no mage had tested to see what would happen and Jaskier now prayed that Triss had been right and Geralt was now somewhere between the Nilfgaardians and Cintra.

“You fool, the Witcher just went through an unstable portal; do you have any idea what happens to people who go through unstable portals?” Fringilla yelled as several guards grabbed Jaskier and forced him on to his knees.

“They show up somewhere between the two points,” Jaskier answered weekly.

“That’s an untested theory,” Fringilla scowled. However, the anger quickly faded as she realised, she had been given an opportunity “and now we can test that theory,” she grinned.

She turned to one of her guards. “Get my bag, I have a tracking spell to perform,”

Jaskier frowned, he had forgotten people could be tracked by magic. As soon as the spell was complete Fringilla would make a new portal and that would mean Jaskier’s momentary heroic act would be in vain. Gods he hated being heroic as much as Geralt hated Portals.

Jaskier cursed, he would have only brought Geralt a small amount of time before the Nilfgaardian forces would catch him again and then they would be in the same situation all over again. Only this time Jaskier had no doubt they wouldn’t have another chance to escape. 

* * *

Geralt found himself floating on his back in a sea of bright pale multi-coloured mist. He found his body wouldn’t move but considering the amount of damage he had suffered both from the harpies and being tossed around by the Nilfgaardian mage it was understandable.

He glanced around not knowing where he was, he couldn’t see the portal as it had closed behind him and this strange place was made his body numb and him drowsy. Despite the fact he was concerned about Jaskier, he could not find the strength to move or even come up with a way to get back to the bard; all he wanted to do was sleep.

Even though he didn’t know where he was, he felt strangely at ease in this strange mist that surrounded him. Geralt let out a deep breath, he was about to close his eyes when a figure wearing a hooded green cloak that covered half of the figures face appeared suddenly above him.

Geralt blinked, despite the figure was facing down towards Geralt and right up in the Witcher's personal space, their noses were almost touching. The Witcher couldn’t make out whether this figure was male or female as all he could see was the figures' lips and pointed chin.

“Now what do we have here hm…?” a male voice asked. The figure had a soft yet mysterious tone to it, he began looking up and down Geralt's’ body. Geralt tensed as he didn’t know if this figure was a threat or with the Nilfgaardian.

The figure maneuvered his way around Geralt's body taking in all aspects of it. Moving and twisting as if the figure was a snake. But given that Geralt was floating, the wither wondered if there was an up or down in this place. Since the figure hadn't made any attempt to harm Geralt could only assume that the green cloaked man was curious about him. 

“Now how did you get here?” the figure wondered and lifted his hand to his chin and tapped a finger on his right cheek. Geralt opened his mouth to respond bout found he could not speak. The Witcher's eyes widened with panic and Geralt tried to lift his arm to reach his throat but found he could no longer move at all.

‘Shit the mist,” Geralt swore “What the fuck is this place doing to me?’ Geralt wondered, he was trying to keep calm but it appeared the green figure picked up on his distress.

“Ah lost your voice and use of limbs, have we? Worry not, it and your other body functions will come back when you leave,” the figure assured.

The figure moved to Geralt's’ left side and examined the injures the harpies had left. Geralt tensed up as the figure was about to touch his wounds but quickly withdrew his hand and it's head snapped upwards. Geralt wondered what had caught the figures' attention but saw nothing but more mist.

“Ah, I see…interesting…very interesting,” the figure said softly. The figure then looked back at Geralt and the Witcher swore he saw a thin small smile form on his face.

“Oh, what fun this will be,” The figure chuckled. Geralt didn’t like the sound of that “But first, we can’t have a mortal in the Astral Plane,” the figure stated.

Geralt watched as the figure reached out and gave the Witcher a light tap on the chest. The second the green cloaked stager touched him Geralt felt himself being flung downward at an alarming speed.

“Mind the bump on re-entry,” the figure called after Geralt as the Witcher plummeted through the Astral plane.

Suddenly beneath him, a pale green door appeared beneath Geralt and in a second Geralt passed through it. Once on the other side Geralt saw the stars in the night sky above him and the door close and vanish as if it was never there. Geralt felt the wind go through his hair and he was too focused on the sky above him. However, he quickly regained his senses and realised that he was falling from the sky. A quick glance with his eyes and he saw the trees below becoming very close.

“Fuck,” was the only thing Geralt said before he crashed into the trees below. By the time he landed with a thud on the forest floor, he was already unconscious.

* * *

Fringilla should be pissed, she should be annoyed but yet she was strangely calm. After the withers bard had talked her to the ground and pushed Geralt through an unstable portal Fringilla had used every tracking spell she knew to locate the white wolf.

However, each spell came could not find him. That meant that Geralt was no longer of this world. While Fringilla was annoyed at losing Geralt she could now claim to have the answer to what happens to people who travel in unstable portals. It was simple and now 100% proven.

They die.

After her last spell, she was certain that Geralt of Riva was dead. Fringilla turned and walked over to Jaskier who was now being held in place by four guards. Jaskier looked up at her fearfully as she approached.

“Good news and bad news. The bad news is your wither is dead and it’s all your fault,” Fringilla said coldly.

“No…that can’t be, Geralt can’t be dead,” Jaskier said “Your lying,”

“You pushed him into an unstable portal on a theory I just confirmed to be untrue. I have used every tracking spell known to man and each came up with the same response. Geralt of Riva is no longer of this world, he is dead by your hands,” Fringilla claimed.

This news left Jaskier in shock. He had not intended for this, he wanted Geralt to go somewhere else, somewhere he could heal and then come back to get him when he had time to plan. Jaskier had never once intended to kill his best friend.

“W…What's the good news?” Jaskier asked solemnly. Though he was afraid of the answer.

“You just helped me prove what happens when people go through an unstable portal. Thanks to you I will go down in history as the mage who made this discovery,” Fringilla said.

“What's…what’s going to happen to me and…and Geralt's’ child surprise,”

“Oh, we’ll now have to invade Cintra. Shouldn’t be too hard if we catch them off guard,” Fringilla shrugged “well just take Cintra’s lion cub as a prisoner of war,”

“What of the bard?” one of the men asked.

“Take him back to Nilfgaard and lock him up in the palace's dungeons. I don’t care what you do to him as long as he lives,” Fringilla ordered.

“If the withers dead why don’t we just kill him and be done with it?”

“Because that’s no fun and I may need a test subject for some spells I’ve been working on,” Fringilla claimed. She then opened a portal and walked through it leaving Jaskier behind with the Nilfgaardian soldiers.

“I’m sorry Geralt,” Jaskier whispered silently as he was pulled to his feet by his captors and taken away.


	2. This Is Why I Hate Portals

_**A.n I own Nothing** _

_**I finally figured out the Chapter numbers. So just to clarify, this will be a multi-chapter story, I hope to have 12-15 Chapters...might be less but we will see how things go. Also throughout the story, you will notice some odd spelling words for Caleb. This is not a mistake and done intentionally to try and give him his German(Zimmian) sounding accent.** _

_**T** _ _**here may also be words that seem to spelled wrong to some people, I am from Australia and we spell certain words differently here. The most common are those words like Realise. Z is always replaced with an S in Australian spelling.** _

_**English is my first language but I do suffer from mild **Dysgraphia, it is** a disability that makes it harder to write and extremely difficult to pick up mistakes when writing. I do use both MS WORD and Grammarly to help me but some missed words, mistakes and even sentences that just stop midway will most likely slip through the cracks. ** _

_**Please Comment** _

* * *

Fjord sat in front of the fire poking the burning wood with his Falchion, the wood cracked and broke apart. He would need to add more if he wanted it to last through to the end of his watch and through the night. Around the fire, there were four tents set up, and a wagon with two horses resting in the small domed enclosure where the rest of the Mighty Nien was sleeping. It was a little cramped but it offered much better protection from the nocturnal monsters and any other unsavory characters who could be out there at night.

He looked up at the sky through the magical dome that was surrounded their camp, the smoke from the fire passed through it harmlessly. Ever since their run-in with the Iron Shepherds, a magic dome surrounded their campsite to protect them.

The Iron Shepards were a group of Slavers that had taken three members of the Mighty Nien right under the rest of the group's noses. The others didn’t even know they had gone missing until the next morning. It had been a terrible wake-up call that the group was not as safe on the road as they had largely thought. When Fjord and two others had been taken by the slavers it was only through sheer dumb luck that the rest of the group had found and rescued them before they had been sold into slavery.

Even though the Mighty Nien had saved their kidnapped friends they still lost one of their own in the battles. Since then Caleb, the groups' cowardly wizard had learned better and more powerful protection spells to use at night when they were most vulnerable. While most of the group knew some type of magic, none of them were as knowledgeable or as talented in the arcane arts as Caleb was.

Despite the magical barrier in place, the group still decided that they would always have someone on watch; just encase. Fjord heard the shuffling of blankets, a he looked behind him to see Jester, a blue looking devil come out of her and Beaus tent.

“What are you doing up?” Fjord asked. He had a deep Texan accent to his voice“You're not on Watch tonight,”

“I know, but I have to go,” Jester said through a yawn. Her voice was upbeat and bubbly, yet she sounded tired at the moment.

“Go? You're not pulling a Yasha on us are you?” Fjord asked.

“Not that kind of go,” Jester huffed.

“What other kinds of go is there?”

“You know…go…use the little Tieflings room,”

Fjord blinked at her but showed no recognition on his face.

“The little orcs corner,”

Fjord still looked at her confused he had never heard of the little orcs corner. “I don’t know what that is,” He claimed “I’ve never heard that expression and I happen to be part orc,”

“Of the love of…I have to pee,” Jester clarified.

“oh…that kind of go,” Fjord realised “It’s the middle of the night,”

“I know but I really really need to gooo,” Jester insisted and jumped up and down.

“I’ll come with you,”

“No, you will not,” Jester snapped. She suddenly realised that her response came out a little too loud and too quickly “I mean I can handle myself, and I’d rather you not look at me with my pants down,” Jester clarified blushing a bit.

“Fine, just don’t go far and don’t be too long,” Fjord instructed.

“I won’t,” Jester assured and she turned and walked through the magical dome. Fjord watched her go and shook his head, he threw another log on the fire.

Jester walked through the trees for a bit until she was far enough away from the camp that she would not be spied on but close enough for Fjord to hear her yell if she got into trouble; thanks to her more demonic like traits she could easily see in the dark so there was no chance she would trip and fall or run into a tree.

She lifted her dress and pulled down her panties, squatting down to relieve herself; her tail waving happily. It didn’t take long and once she was done Jester made her way back through the trees to camp, skipping as she went. However, she hadn't got more than a few steps when she thought she heard someone swear, followed by a crashing of branches. Jester looked up and a man fell from treetops in front of her. Landing on the ground with a large thud and dust filled the air.

She let out a small cry and immediately summoned her large pink lollipop, it had a pink and white swirl pattern and a large pale green bow tied around the stick.

Jester coughed a few times as the dirt and dust cleared, once it had she saw that what had fallen and landed in front of her was a man. He laying on his side and wasn’t moving. Jester carefully got closer and gave the man a nudge with the end of her oversized lollipop. The man didn’t move or respond, he just lay there on the ground in front of her.

Jester inched closer and carefully bent down to examine the man. She reached out and touched him pulling away quickly but still got no response. Jester tilted her head a bit, whoever this was, they were not conscious. She looked up and saw a large hole in the trees and that several branches had been broken where the man had fallen from. She spied a few had been caught in the trees but several other branches were lying on the ground around and underneath the man.

She gave a light push on the man's shoulder and rolled him onto his back, that was when she saw the wound on the man's side and the arrows sticking out of him. Jester let out a small gasp and quickly searched for any sign that the man in front of her was still alive.

He didn’t look like he was breathing and the arrows were not near any fatal spots. The injury on his side seemed to be the biggest problem…that and any damage he received from his fall. Thankfully the man was breathing, although it was very shallow and from what Jester could gather she raised her hand over so it was over the man's chest.

“Spare the Dying,” Jester said as a pale green light emitted out of her hand and pink sparkling wrapped lollies fell from her hand and sprinkled onto the man; vanishing as soon as they touched the man's armor. The man took a deep breath of air through his nose but did not wake up.

Once the spell was complete Jester dismissed her Lollipop and let out a sigh and leaned back with her arms positioned behind her to support her. Thanks to her magic whoever this was would no longer be in danger of dying, for at least another 12hrs. If he didn’t get to a healer before then the magic keeping him alive would fade, but Jester was confident she could completely heal him in the morning. She could always ask Caduceus to help heal him as well if she was not able too.

She reached down and slung the unconscious man over the back of her shoulders and started walking back to camp.

“I can’t wait to show the others what I found,” Jester said with a smile on her face.

As she was walking Fjord and the other members of the Mighty Nein suddenly burst out of the trees, weapons drawn and ready for battle. They quickly scanned the area with his yellow eyes before settling on the young Tiefling in front of him.

“Jester are you alright?” Fjord asked in concern. He had heard the crash of branches and the thud. The sound had woken the rest of the party, and they had immediately run out of the camp to find her as she was the only one not in camp and they were worried about her safety.

“Whos’s that?” Nott asked and pointed to the man lying in front of Jester.

“Oh him, he fell from the sky,” Jester said with a smile.

The entire group blinked and stared at Jester for a moment as if they were trying to process what she just said.

“I’m sorry vat?” Caleb asked. His Zimmian accent coming through.

“I was peeing and then this man fell from the sky,” Jester claimed “He’s hurt so I cast spare the dying on him,”

“Okay ignoring the fact that you think he fell from the sky,” Beau started.

“He did,”

“Why did you cast spare the dying on him? He could be our enemy for all we know,” the monk continued “also he got anything interesting on him?”

“I’ll check his pockets,” Nott volunteered, raising her hand in the air.

“Because this way I can keep him of course,” Jester said like it was obvious “And Nott, at least wait till we're back at camp before you rob him,”

“Okay,” the goblin whined. She said it like it was a chore to wait to pick the strangers' pockets.

“Keep him?” Caduceus asked confused.

“Yeah, maybe if we save him, he can lead us to a castle or some kind of city in the sky,” Jester said excitedly.

“Jester those don’t exist,” Fjord claimed.

“You don’t know that,” Jester shot back “besides how many times have you met a man who falls from the sky?”

“Well…none but…”

“Exactly, that’s why we need to keep him,”

“Before we do anything, we should do something about his injuries,” Caduceus observed as he knelt next to the man and began to examine him.

“I’m completely out of magic,” Jester sighed.

“Didn’t you say you had enough magic for one or two more spells?” Nott remembered.

“Yeah but I summoned my Lollipop when he landed in front of me and then I used the remaining of my power to ensure he didn’t die,” Jester explained. She then looked up at the Firbolg “Duceus can you do anything,”

“Unfortunately, not tonight, I am in the same boat as you,” Caduceus responded “I could make him a cup of tea if he wakes up,”

“So, some dude falls from the sky and your first instinct is to offer him a cup of dead people?” Beau asked.

“It worked with you didn’t it?”

“Yeah, fair point,” Beau agreed.

Caleb walked past the group and squatted down just behind Geralt's' head. He removed some of the man's hair to get a good look at him.

“Vell he looks human,” the wizard mused “Could he be vith the empire?”

“We’re pretty far from the front lines,” Fjord claimed “Plus he’s not wearing the colours of the empire,”

“Maybe he’s just another mercenary looking to make some coin like we are,” Beau suggested.

“Or maybe he got his wings cut off while flying through some very dense clouds,” Jester added.

“I’m not efen going to bother to explain to you how impossible that is,” Caleb commented.

Fjord looked up and saw the hole in the trees. He moved over and picked up one of the fallen branches off the ground and examined it closely.

“The broken branches have snapped and considering the damage done to the trees certainly indicates he fell from very high up,” Fjord admitted “Jesters right, this man fell from the sky,”

The whole group looked up through the hole in the trees but all they could see was the starry sky above them. None of them believed this man was from a castle or city in the sky…well except Jester of course. But they also could not explain how the man fell.

“Let's get him back to camp for now,” Fjord announced “We can heal him and deal with this properly tomorrow,”

The rest of the group agreed, they didn’t like being exposed and out in the open like this and it was clear that they were not going to get answers about the strange man until he woke up. Jester used the man's uninjured arm to hoist him up and sling him over the back of her shoulders. The group started walking back towards their camp and the safety of the magic dome.

Beau and Nott were leading, followed by Jester carrying Geralt and Caduceus was walking next to her. Caleb was right behind them with Fjord was a few steps behind the wizard. He was constantly on alert for anything that would sneak up on them while also giving wary glances to the man slung across Jesters back.

“You know, I could carry him for you,” Fjord offered, catching Jester's attention “You’ve done enough for him tonight,”

“Nah I’m good, besides he’d be too heavy for you,” Jester claimed and continued ahead.

“You know…could you stop bring my lack of physical strength up,” Fjord requested.

“Hmm…nope,” Jester responded happily and Fjord let out a sigh.

Once they were back to camp Caleb recast the dome as it had disappeared when he had left to check on Jester with the others. After about ten minutes the dome returned and Jester lay the man down by the fire and the Mighty Nein got a good look at their guest.

He was a tall very muscular man with long white hair, part of it was tied back in a ponytail. His Armor was a mix of black and dark brown chain mail and had a large claw mark gash in the side that tore right through. There was an empty sheath on his back and despite the white hair, the man had a relatively young-looking face. There was also a silver medallion with a wolf's head hanging off the man's neck, it was vibrating slightly.

“Hey is it me or is his necklace moving on its own?” Nott asked.

“It is,” Jester agreed “maybe it’s a magic necklace,”

“Ohhh…magic shines….” Nott said, with a greedy look in her eyes.

Upon hearing this Caleb leaned over and lifted the necklace off the man, it seemed to vibrate more in his hands.

“At least wait till the guys dead before you loot his stuff,” Beau said. Caleb gave her an odd look.

“I’m just going to Identify this, I’ll let you know vat it is and dose vhen you’fe finished healing him,” the wizard claimed and he walked to the other side of the campfire and set himself up and began to focus intently on the small wolf Medallion.

While Caleb was working his magic, Fjord helped Caduceus and Jester remove the Armor. Once the Armor was removed Jester and Caduceus gently pulled the arrows out of the man and set them aside, they then began to treat and bandage his injures as best they could. The bandages would provide some relief until the morning when the two clerics could use their magic to heal Geralt.

Once they were finished Jester lifted the man and carried him to the cart, she used a spare blanket to cover Geralt to keep him warm for the night, before heading back over to the campfire to sit with the rest of the group.

“So, the necklace, what’s it do?” Nott asked eagerly once Jester had re-joined the group. The rest of the Mighty Nein leaned closer as they were curious and eager to know what the medallion did as well.

“As far as I can tell, it detects magic and monsters,” Caleb claimed.

“Magic and monsters?”

“Ja, watch,” Caleb said and held the medallion closer to Nott and it started vibrating violently. Caleb then stood up and held it out to Jester and Fjord. While the vibration settled a bit it did not stop completely, however when he held it out to Beau it stopped.

“That’s pretty dope,” Beau said with approval “Dibs by the way,”

“Hey that’s not fair,” Jester cried as she shot up.

“Yeah it is, I called dibs first. That means it’s mine,” Beau declared proudly and snatched the medallion out of Caleb's hand.

“Dibs?” Caduceus asked confused.

“Don’t ask and it’s not yours Beau,” Fjord sighed.

“Why the hell not? It’s not like he’s using it,” Beau said and gestured towards the cart.

“He’s unconscious, not dead,” Caleb pointed out “he vill most likely vant it back,”

“His injured and may not last the night,” Beau pointed out.

“Actually, he will. That is exactly what spare the dying dose,” Caduceus pointed out “It spares you from dying. It’s in the name of the spell,”

“Beau give it back,” Nott warned. The monk gave the goblin an odd look.

“Seriously, you're telling me to give something back?” Beau asked skeptically.

“Well yeah, I mean that man is big, tall and looks very strong. If we take his stuff he might kill us in our sleep when he wakes up,” Nott claimed “I don’t want him to kill me in my sleep, it’s bad enough that Yasha wants too,”

“Yasha doesn’t want to kill you, Nott,” Jester assured “if she did, she would have done it already,”

“You mean she’s biding her time?” Nott panicked.

“No, I didn’t mean that…”

“I knew it, she’s toying with us. Just waiting till we no longer suspect her of being a spy!!”

“Yasha’s not even here,” Caduceus claimed.

“That we know of, she’s out there somewhere. Likely watching us as we speak…waiting for the right moment and then bam. We’re dead and she’s attending our funerals,”

“That’s not going to happen. We have the magic dome to protect us at night now,” Fjord pointed out “Right Caleb?”

“Actually, vhen I cast this spell I choose who to let in and I hafe been choosing to allow Yasha entry encase she catches up with us at night,” Caleb answered.

“Oh my god, she is going to kill us in our sleep,” Nott freaked out.

“I’m too tired to deal with this,” Fjord sighed and he stood up “Nott seeing as your so worked up, why don’t you take watch for the rest of the night,”

“M…M…Me?” Nott asked in a scared voice.

“Sure, just don’t fall asleep. If you do, Yasha will sneak up on you and plunge her big sharp and pointy great sword right through you and then she will use it to toast your corpse over the fire and eat your insides like the rats she loves so much,” Beau said in a completely low yet serious tone.

“WAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” Nott screamed.

“Vhy vould you do that?” Caleb moaned.

“Cause it’s funny and I can,” Beau smirked and headed back to her tent. She tossed the wolf the Medallion onto Geralt as she passed by the cart. It landed on the blanket and slid to the side.

The next morning after the entire group had woken up and had their morning meal. Beau was helping load the supplies onto the wagon. However, she stopped when she heard an unfamiliar moan. Beau immediately identified the source as Geralt and looked down at the unconscious man.

His face was a bit scrunched up and his head started to roll around.

“Hey I think he’s coming too,” Beau said and she knelt beside the Witcher.

Geralt did indeed look like he was coming around as his head started to move and the groans became louder. Fjord called out to the others and he climbed onto the wagon and Caleb, who was nearby leaned on the side with his arms resting on the edge for the wood and watched with interest.

The monk reached out and placed a hand on Geralt's shoulder, intending to offer some kind of comfort and reduce the shock of waking up injured. But the second she touched Geralt, the Witcher’s' eyes snapped open and he grabbed her arm tightly.

Beau reflexively punched him in the face and Geralt went limp again and his arm dropped.

“Beau!!! What the hell?!!!” Fjord yelled.

“Sorry, sorry…reflex,” Beau apologised and raised her hands in the air.

“You don’t punch an injured man in the face, just as he’s coming round,”

“I know, I know. I feel terrible about it. But he just grabbed me and I just freaked,”

“Didn’t stop her with those bandits the other week,” Caleb muttered or that one guy who was trying to give her back something she dropped,”

“Keep talking Caleb and I will punch your lights out next,” Beau threatened. Caleb wisely shut up as he knew Beau would be very willing to back up her threat.

“Ugh, I hope you haven’t undone Jesters spell from last night,” Fjord moaned and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh…oh. Is he going to die now? Ah man that sucks, I didn’t want to kill him,”

“Is this how you react when Jester wakes up every morning?” Caleb asked “Because if so I am never sharing a room or tent with you,”

“I don’t punch Jester in the face every morning when she wakes up,” Beau defended.

“Oh, so he’s just special then,”

“Shut up Caleb, just go get Jester and Cad,” 

“Fine but only because I fear you may punch me next,” Caleb huffed. He stalked off and returned a few moments later with both Jester and Caduceus in tow.

“What happened? I thought he was waking up?” Caduceus asked.

“He was,” Fjord agreed and sent a death glare at Beau.

“Is that a black eye?” Jester asked “He didn’t have that last night,”

“My bad,” Beau admitted “That was my fault,”

“The black eye or that he didn't wake up?” Nott asked confused.

“Both,” Caleb responded.

“The spell hasn’t been broken. Not completely, he won’t die but he will likely feel worse when he wakes up,” Jester claimed.

“How much worse?” Fjord asked.

“He’ll just need a bit more healing and rest,” Caduceus assured.

“Well can you do it on the road,” Nott asked “I’d like to get into town today,”

“Sure, it’d probably be better that we get to town sooner rather than later,” Caduceus agreed “At least this way he can wake up in a bed,”

The group agreed, they quickly finished packing up their camp and once everything was loaded onto the wagon and the two horses were hitched, they set off with Nott guiding the horses and Beau riding up front.

The rest of the Mighty Nein was in the back with the sleeping Geralt. Jester and Caduceus were both working on his injuries with their magic, while Caleb and Fjord were sitting at the very back with leaning against the side watching the forests. Occasionally they turned to watch the two Clerics work.

Jesters healing spell took the form of Rainbow coloured glitter, while Caduceus held his hand close to Geralt's side and a pink light emitted from his hand. The wound was slowly being covered in moss, give the fact that it was a large wound both healers were focusing on it first.

An hour late the group could make out the town of Zadash in the distance. It was mid-morning when the Mighty Nein reached the gates, they were let through without incident. The mighty Nein headed to the Leaky Tap Tavern, it was a well-kept tavern with an inn attached to it that offered moderate accommodation for a very reasonable price…plus the ale was decent too.

They had stayed at the Leaky Tap before and it was there preferred place to stay in the city. When they arrived, Fjord got down off the cart to make arrangements with the owner for rooms to accommodate them all. Fjord got three rooms, all with two beds in them, Jester carried Geralt up to one of the rooms with Caduceus in tow while the rest of the group began to unload their stuff from the wagon. Once the wagon was empty Fjord took it and the horses to the stable near the North entrance of the city.

When he returned to the Leaky Tap, Fjord spied the rest of his friends sitting on a long rectangle table off to the side. They all but Jester and Caduceus had tankards in front of them; Jester had a glass of milk and Caduceus had a cup of hot tea. Fjord walked over and sat down next to Caleb and Beau slid a tankard of ale to him.

“How is he?” Fjord asked, referring to Geralt after taking a drink.

“Still hasn’t woken up yet,” Jester shrugged.

“We did a bit more healing, he’s going to be very sore when he wakes up,” Caduceus informed.

“That is not surprising considering vho hit him,” Caleb muttered and sent Beau a glare.

“I said I was sorry, geez,” Beau huffed and took a swig of her drink.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Nott asked.

“We have to report to the gentlemen that those bandits have been dealt with,” Beau reminded the group “After that, …we’ll anyone got any ideas?”

“I think we should stay in town,” Caduceus advised “at least until our guest has recovered,”

“Should we tell the Gentleman about him?” Nott asked “I mean he’s not the kind of person you want to hide things from,”

“I wouldn’t, I mean he’s not relevant to the job we agreed to do right?” Beau pointed out.

“If it comes up or he asks vee can just say vee found him injured on the road on our way back to town,” Caleb suggested “It’s vot a complete lie,”

“I agree, we shouldn’t bring him up, at least not until we know who he is and we’ve had a chance to talk to him,” Fjord agreed. He then turned and looked at Jester and Caduceus “How soon until he wakes up?”

“I’d say sometime today, if not maybe tomorrow,” Caduceus answered. 

“We’d better go see the Gentleman soon, he probably knows we’re back in town already,” Beau advised.

“Can we stop by the Kings Hall’s Task Board on the way back?” Jester asked “Maybe there’s some work we can do around the city,”

“Let’s leave that until we know who a bit more about who we picked up and we’re certain he won’t kill us in our sleep,” Nott advised.

“Not everyone wants to kill you in your sleep Nott,” Caduceus claimed.

“Just people who are assholes and grumpy,” Beau added with a smile.

“That is literally everyone,” Nott argued.

The Mighty Nein continued to talk and once they had all finished their drinks, Caleb went up to the room where Geralt was sleeping and summoned his cat to watch the sleeping Witcher. The mighty Nein left the leaky tap to go report to the Gentleman.


	3. Monsters Among Men...and Women

_**A.n I own Nothing.** _

_**This chapter would have been out a lot sooner but I accidentally saved over the finished version of it with the next chapter and could not get it back. I was very unmotivated to re-write it but I finally did. Anyway, I hope everyone is staying safe during this troubled time.** _

_**Please Comment.** _

* * *

Geralt winced as he eased back into consciousness. Without opening his eyes, he could feel the sun on his skin and heard the faint sound of a bustling street coming from somewhere and there was something heavy on his chest. Holding back a grunt of pain from his throbbing head and aching body, he finally opened his eyes.

He had to squint until they adjusted to the light and once, they were open he found the source of the pressure.

Lying on the Witcher’s chest was a small orange cat. It stared back at the Witcher with its green eyes.

Geralt blinked a few times just to make sure he was seeing a cat and the feline was not a figment of his mind induced by blood loss.

“Where did you come from?” Geralt asked. The cat gave a small mew in response.

Taking his eyes off the cat Geralt tried to push himself to a sitting position, the cat hopped off Geralt's chest as the Witcher moved and stood next to his side while still on the bed. But the sudden movement sent a bolt of pain through Geralt's whole body, making the Witcher rethink his decision to move and he collapsed back onto the pillow panting in pain.

The pain seemed to mostly come from his left side, though his right leg and left shoulder. His whole body ached and his head felt like he had been run over after being kicked in the face by Roach when she was in a bad mood.

“Okay, bad Idea,” Geralt grunted, once the pain had subsided somewhat.

The Cat trotted closer to Geralt's head and meowed at him as if the cat was scolding him for trying to get up.

“Yeah, your right. Won’t be doing that again,” Geralt agreed.

He then tilted his head to try and get a better look at his surroundings, it was a bit difficult but Geralt deduced he was in an Inn of some kind. The room from what he could see was not overly large, but it wasn’t small either.

Apart from the bed he was lying there was a second bed not far away, it had two packs on it and at least four more were littered around it. Geralt's eyes immediately zoomed in on the brightly Pink coloured pink one. He had to wonder who would have a pink travel bag and even more so who made it.

Apart from the other bed, there were two side tables, one next to each bed. The one next to Geralt had a bowl on it with a towel hanging off it. Likely used by whoever had treated his wounds. On the other side of the room, the Witcher spied a closed wardrobe next to a window that had the curtains drawn in an attempt to keep the light out.

It wasn’t working very well as the curtains were too short and had a few holes in it.

“Must be in an inn of some kind,” Geralt stated as he finished taking in his surroundings.

Geralt tried to remember how he got to this Inn. He remembered accepting the Harpy Contract and having his usual argument with Jaskier as to why the bard was not allowed to accompany him to the nest. After they had set up camp, Geralt remembered heading off into the woods and finding the Nest.

And now he was warm and almost comfortable, he was lying on a reasonably soft bed, covered with a single sheet and a blanket.

Geralt tried to focus on what happened between finding the nest of Harpies and waking up in this room but he Couldn’t bring up any memories. He didn’t remember fighting the dame birds, but given how his body felt he must have fought them.

“Suppose they could have knocked me off a cliff or got a few lucky shots in,” Geralt sighed. He then turned his attention to the cat “Don’t suppose you know who brought me here,”

The Geralt lifted his arm and reached to give the cat a scratch behind the ears. The Cat eagerly moved its head into the Witchers' hand and purred happily. Clearly, this cat liked the attention.

“Did Jaskier pick you up?” Geralt asked as he scratched the cat “Hope he didn’t promise to keep you,”

Thinking of Jaskier made Geralt wonder if it was the bard who brought him back to town. Had the bard gone looking for him when Geralt didn’t return? that seemed a likely possibility as Jaskier was known to do recklessly stupid things. Seeing as he was still alive Geralt had to assume that he had killed all the Harpies, or at least enough to scare them away and Jaskier had found him unconscious and brought the injured Witcher back to town.

Geralt just hoped that Jaskier had picked up some kind of Trophy to prove the deed had been done. Though it did make the Witcher wonder where his bardic companion was, normally if Geralt was injured Jaskier would fuss over him like an old mother.

“Suppose he’s downstairs singing his gods' awful songs about me again,” Geralt grumbled. He tried to focus his hearing to see if he could make out the faint strums of a lute or a cheering crowd. But he didn’t hear anything “Hmm…don’t hear anything. Probably sticking his sausage in some woman’s pantry then,”

Geralt removed his hand from the cat and placed hit back on the bed, the cat looked confused as to why the Witcher had stopped petting it. It mewed loudly several times in an attempt to get the Witcher to pet it some more. But when Geralt ignored it the cat moved up to Geralt's neck and started to nuzzle against him.

Geralt grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and held it up above him. “Your definitely Jaskiers cat, too affectionate and loud,”

He placed the cat gently further down the bed and closed his eyes; hoping to get some more sleep before Jaskier burst in looking for the Witcher to protect him from an angry father or suiter.

\---

The next time Geralt woke up he was lying face down on the bed with his head resting on the side. He heard the sounds of heavy boots hitting the floorboards and they were coming closer. Geralt rolled over and glanced over at the window. There was a dim orange light so seeping through, it couldn’t be not long past sundown. He prayed that the sound was just some other travelers or patrons heading their rooms.

However, that hope was dashed the second the boots stopped and the handle to his room opened. Geralt groaned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Despite the pain and his body protesting and screaming for more rest. Geralt sat up, he gave a quick glance to the cat who had curled up and fallen asleep at the end of the bed.

The sheets and blankets fell off him revealing his upper body was heavily bandaged. There was a bandage wrapped around his waist and one around his shoulder blade.

“Jaskier what trouble have you got yourself into this ti…oh,” Geralt started but trailed off as the door opened revealing a very strange group of individuals.

The first person to walk in was a tall male looking creature. He had a big scar across his face and green skin, though part of his face was a lighter green complexion from his cheekbones down to his neck. He wore beat-up leathers and piecemeal armor that looked like it had been hastily put together.

Geralt could not help but stare at him, he had never seen someone like this before.

The second one to enter was thankfully human, she was a tall woman, though not as tall as the green-skinned man. She had long dark-brown hair that was shaved into an undercut and tied into a topknot and a vertical scar over her left eye.

She wore baggy clothes and monk vestments in shades of blue and grey. She has a blue sash around her belt and was carrying a Bo staff in one hand. She gave the aura of an experienced yet cocky fighter.

The two were halfway to Geralt's beside when the third person came in. The next creature to enter was what Geralt could only describe as a blue devil. The devil had blue hair and freckles on her face. She was wearing a pretty dress with a belt that had a strange symbol that Geralt had never seen before. It looked like an open door with a pathway going through it. She also wore gloves that and had more than a few rings on each of her fingers. Geralt spied two small axes on her belt.

As soon as she entered the devil squealed and dashed over to Geralt's bedside. Pushing past the green man with such force that he was thrown to the ground with a grunt.

“Thanks for that, Jessie,” the green man grumbled. The human woman snorted laughter as he got back on his feet. He walked over and stood beside Geralt on his right bedside with the human woman moved to stand next to him. The blue devil however completely ignored the other two and focused solely on Geralt.

“Are you an angel?” the devil asked in a female voice.

“Uh…

“an angel?” the devil repeated “You know a guy with wings,”

“Uh…no.” Geralt said cautiously “why would you think that I was?”

“Because you fell from heaven into my arms,”

“Oh my god…really,” the human woman moaned and ran her hand over her face “such a lame line,”

“Wait…what?” Geralt asked confused. He did not understand what this devil was getting at.

“Hi, I’m Jester,” the devil introduced, “Where are you from? How did you fall from the sky? Do your people have wings and if so, did you lose yours? Can I see your floating castle? Is there gold inside? Do your people have big or small dicks?”

Geralt stared at her in bewilderment. He was completely lost as she was talking to fast and rattling off too many strange and odd questions.

“Jester perhaps you should not overload him,” a new calming voice said. “Don’t mind her, she means well,”

Geralt looked to the source of the voice as another creature he had never seen walked over. He cursed himself for being distracted by the blue devil. This creature was the tallest one yet by far. He was a seven-foot-tall creature with a cow-like face and ears, with pale skin and grey fur. He had pink mohawk hair paired with a light fuzz of a beard. He wore a silk shirt with one long flowy sleeve, dark green pants, and brown boots spotted with pink lichen. He was holding a wooden staff with a purple amethyst embedded in the top of it.

He stood next to the blue devil and gave Geralt a soft smile but said nothing more.

Geralt turned his attention to the last two to enter the room. The first was another human, a male this time. He looked like a beggar. The man had blue eyes, a cleft chin, and reddish-brown hair. He wore a long dirty coat and Geralt spied his hands were wrapped in a bandage that continued up into his sleeves. His attire was filthy and had muck and dirt all over his clothes, his hair and skin were equally dirty. Geralt could smell the piss, vomit and alcohol stench from the other side of the room, he couldn’t see any weapons on the man and assumed they were likely hidden in his coat.

This man didn’t approach the bed like the others, instead, he chose to lean against the door frame and kept his eyes trained on Geralt. Watching him closely.

The last creature was a small green humanoid figure. Geralt couldn’t make much out apart from some yellow eyes. At first, Geralt thought that perhaps this was a very small Witcher, but that thought was dashed when he noticed a small amount of green skin. The creature was dressed in a heavy dark hooded cloak that hid most features. The hood prevented him from making out many details and a porcelain mask covered the lower part of its face.

Like the human male, these creatures’ clothes were both dirty and smelled far worse. The small creature did not enter the room but hid behind the man’s legs only poking its head out to look curiously at Geralt.

The people who walked in were not Jaskier, nor was the bard among them hell they didn’t even look like they were even chasing the bard and that concerned the Witcher.

“We’re glad you're awake, how are you feeling?” the green one asked.

Geralt eyed the strange group who had wearily, by this time they had surrounded his bed. He had never seen creatures like this before, he was very concerned that there were humans amongst them and wondered if the creatures were in control or was it the humans who controlled the creatures.

He hoped it was the latter as he was not armed nor did he feel confidant he could win if a fight broke out. It concerned Geralt that he didn’t feel his medallion vibrate before they came in; his medallion should have alerted him to their presence earlier. It was only now that Geralt realised he didn’t feel the cold sliver medallion against his chest.

“Fuck,” Geralt swore.

“Huh, he seems ok,” the woman responded.

“Beau,” the green man warned.

“What? If the first word to come out of someone is Fuck then he’s either hungover or annoyed that someone woke him up,” The human woman explained “and we know he’s not hungover,”

“We don’t actually,” the cowman pointed out “he could have been drunk before we found him,”

‘Found me?’ Geralt thought ‘they found me? What about Jaskier?’

“Who the hell are you and where am I?” Geralt demanded in a threating voice.

“We’re the Mighty Nein,” The Green man responded.

“Nine?” Geralt asked and his eyes over the group again counting them. When he was done, he turned his attention back to the green one. “But there’s six of you,”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” the human woman responded “and you’re in the Leaky Tap Tavern, in the city of the Zadash,”

“Zadash?” Geralt asked, he had never heard of that city before “where is Zadash?”

“You know, it’s in the Empire,”

“Empire…you’re with Nilfgaard?!” Geralt accused.

“Nilfgaard?” the blue Devil asked confused. She looked at the others but they all shrugged in response.

“Perhaps he has some memory loss,” the cow looking man said thoughtfully.

“Vay to go, Beau,” the fifthly man commented from the other side of the room.

“Hey it’s not my fault,” the human woman shot back.

“You’re the one vho hit him,”

“Not that hard I didn’t, he this is probably from the fall,”

“Fall?” Geralt asked.

“Yeah you fell from the sky,” the blue devil claimed. Geralt looked at her puzzled, he didn’t remember falling or being anywhere near a place where he could fall from. Apart from the Harpies’ nest.

“Hold on a second,” the green man said. He walked over to the other bed and started going through the packs. Geralt watched carefully and the green man pulled out a rolled-up parchment before going back to Geralt's side.

“Here,” He offered “it’s a map, why don’t you look at it and tell us if anything looks familiar,”

Geralt slowly reached out and took the map, as soon as it was open his eyes widened in shock. Nothing on the map looked familiar to him. The lay of the land was all wrong and he had never heard of any of the places listed on it. His eyes darted over the map looking for the larger kingdoms, Cintra, Temeria, Redania and even Nilfgaard anything familiar but nothing was there.

“This…this can’t be right…” Geralt whispered. He was trying to keep his emotions in check but seeing the map was making it hard as he had no idea where he was or if these creatures were a threat.

Seeing that Geralt was getting distressed the cowman stepped closer gently pushing past the blue delve and

“You don’t know where you are, do you?” he observed.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked,” Geralt snapped back.

“Ture, but I mean you truly don’t know,” the cowman responded. He then sat on the bed and slowly reached out, Geralt tensed but the man placed his hand on the map

“Let’s try something else. My name is Caduceus Clay, this is Fjord, Beau,” Caduceus introduced.

“S’up,” the human woman said with a nod.

“Caleb, Nott and Jester,” Caduceus said, pointing to each member of the Mighty Nein as he said their names “Can you tell us your name?”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Geralt grunted and then his voice turned deadly “and you all either have a lot of guts or death wish to show your selves like this to me,”

“Why do you say that?” Caduceus asked. He was not intimidated by Geralt's tone.

“Because of what I am,”

“Oh, and what are you?” Fjord asked with narrow eyes. If Geralt was a threat to him and his friends then he would deal with him very quickly.

“I’m a Witcher,” Geralt said.

The group stared at him with no recognition on their face.

“You’re a Witch? But your male,” Jester said confused “you do know your male right? Wouldn’t that make you a warlock?”

“Maybe he identifies as a woman,” Caduceus offered.

“That’s hot,” Beau said in approval.

“But he’s a man,” Jester argued.

“Now Jester, it is not our place to judge how this man…uh…woman choose to live and how,” Fjord said.

“Then why is he called Geralt?”

“Maybe it’s short for Geraldine,” Fjord suggested

Geralt looked at the group in shock, they thought he was a gender-confused witch? This was something he had never experienced before. It concerned him that they had no recognition of what a Witcher was.

“I am a male and I’m not a Witch. I’m a Witcher,” Geralt spoke out irritably “A monster hunter for hire,”

“EEPPP!!!” Nott cried out and did her best to hide under Caleb’s coat in an attempt to get out of Geralt's sight.

“Oh, that makes more sense,” Fjord said. He wasn’t phased in the slightest about being in a monster hunters’ presence.

“Still hot,” Beau stated.

“And you believe us to be monsters?” Caduceus asked.

“Yes, well if you think you have me because I’m injured and unarmed your wrong. I don’t need my weapons to kill you,” Geralt growled. He then gestured to Nott “at least that one has the decency to wear some kind of disguise,”

“I see well before you kill us, I can promise you we are not monsters,” Caduceus assured.

“Speak for your selves,” Nott cried out.

“You’re not human and your clearly not elves or Dwarfs so that leaves monsters,” Geralt insisted.

“Hey, I’m human and so is Caleb,” Beau claimed "even if he doesn't smell like it,"

“Very well then. If we are monsters then we’re friendly ones,” Caduceus claimed “If we weren’t, we wouldn’t have tended to your injures and brought you back to town to recover,”

“Wait…you brought me here?” Geralt asked in shock.

“Vee’re arsholes but vee don’t ignore people vho vee find unconscious on the side of the road,” Caleb claimed. “though it was Jester and Caduceus vho tended to your vounds,” Caduceus explained “They’re the healers of the group,”

Geralt looked between Jester and Caduceus. “Your healers?”

“Yep and good ones at that,” Jester smiled “It was thanks to our magic that your still here,”

“It appears there is some confusion about you. Tell me what is the last thing you remember,” Caduceus asked.

Geralt stared at Caduceus, he was hesitant to tell these people anything, after all, he didn’t know if he could trust them, but they weren’t afraid of him nor did they see him as a threat. However, what they said was true then these creatures had saved him.

For what purpose, Geralt didn’t know, but they might know where Jaskier was.

“I was hired to hunt a nest of Harpies,” Geralt sighed “I remember leaving camp and finding the nests location and then I’m waking up here,”

“You don’t remember fighting the harpies?” Beau asked.

Geralt shook his head.

“Well that explains the deep claw gash on your side,” Jester said “But not the two arrow wounds or how you fell from the sky,”

“Arrow wounds?” Geralt asked.

Caduceus nodded. “you had an arrow in your right leg and your left shoulder,” he claimed “given their position they were meant to prevent you from using those limbs,”

Geralt was confused, who would shoot him? The villagers who had hired him certainly wouldn’t have been in the hunting grounds with the Harpies still active, Jaskier didn’t know how to use a bow let alone able to lift one and Harpies didn’t use human weapons. They prefer to use their taloned feet.

“I don’t know who would shoot me, there shouldn’t have been anyone in the area I was hunting in,” Geralt claimed, “and what do you mean I fell from the sky?”

“Because you did. It’s how I found you,” Jester claimed “I was out peeing and, on my way, back to camp you landed right in front of me,”

“It’s true, there were broken branches and a large hole in the trees,” Fjord said “and we all heard the loud crash you made,”

“Was…was there anyone else with me?” Geralt asked “A bard, tall, dark hair, fancy clothes, never shuts up,”

“No, just you,” Jester answered.

“Vee didn’t see anyone else,” Caleb added.

Geralt looked down, that meant that Jaskier had not been found with him. The bard was likely still at camp waiting for Geralt to return. It was more likely that the bard would go back to town before too long and wait for his return there.

Seeing as Geralt had gone silent Caduceus stood up and turned to face the rest of the group.

“I think that is enough for now, Geralt is still injured and needs his rest,” the Firbolg said. Caduceus then looked back at Geralt “Now that we all know each other will you allow me and Jester to check your wounds?”

Geralt glanced at the two supposed healers. He didn’t want to let them look at his wounds, he didn’t trust them or magic in general. He preferred to treat his own injures as there were too many mages out there who would like nothing less than to see how a Witchers mutations worked. However, he was also not in a position to refuse.

If he did then it was likely that theses mages would restrain him and make the whole healing process far more unpleasant. He gave a small nod, and both Jester and Caduceus took that as a sign that they could start their work.

“It’s getting late, I’m going downstairs for a drink and something to eat,” Caleb announced and he pushed himself off the doorframe and walked out with Nott following close behind.

“Hey wait for me,” Beau said and she followed the two out.

Fjord stayed in the room and watched the other three leave.

“Did you need me to stay?” he asked the two healers.

“No, we’ve got this,” Jester said. Fjord nodded and he started to leave.

“Wait, tell me. Where are my clothes and gear?” Geralt asked.

Fjord stopped by the door and turned back to look at Geralt. “Your armor is damaged beyond repair, and your clothes aren’t in much better shape,” Fjord explained “We had to remove so Jester and Cad could work their magic,”

“We kept them though, you can look at them later,” Jester said.

“I also had a sliver Medallion on me. It was in the shape of a wolf's head, where is it?” he asked.

“Oh that, we put it in the packs,” Fjord said and gestured over his shoulder to the other bed “We had to remove it too. It’s with your other gear,”

Geralt nodded and didn’t say anything else. He glanced over at the bags and made a mental note to go through them the first chance he got.

Fjord reached out and took the map back, he rolled it back up but left it out on the bedside table encase Geralt wanted to look at it again. He then turned his attention to the two clerics “I’ll make sure we order you some dinner,” he promised and then he left closing the door behind him.

Once the rest of the group was gone Caduceus and Jester started to unwrap Geralt's badges and while hovering their hands over his body. Their hands emitted a magical glow, Jesters was a wild rainbow coloured while Caduceus was pale pink.

Geralt watched them work with a very cautious curiosity. He was weary of them and this magic that he wasn’t familiar with and also curious as to how it would work with his mutations. After a few minutes, Geralt felt the pain lessen and took it as a sign that the magic was working.

However, he didn’t feel sleepy or drowsy. The Witcher knew that some healing magic required the one being healed to be placed into a deep healing sleep. It was why he was wary of mages using healing magic on him. They could easily put him into a deep sleep and use that time to experiment on just how his mutations work.

After thirty minutes the magic from the two clerics hands faded and they spent another ten minutes reapplying Geralt's bandages.

“And we’re done,” Jester announced once they had finished.

“That’s it?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, we’ve healed most of the damage and you should be alright by tomorrow,” Caduceus claimed “Though your arm and leg might be a little bit stiff for the next day or two but it will pass,”

“Why didn’t you put me into a healing sleep?” the Witcher asked.

“Healing sleep? What’s that?” Jester asked.

“Nothing, never mind,” Geralt grunted, “What happens now?”

“Now you rest, a good night's sleep will do you the world of good,” Caduceus said.

“I don’t think I’ll get any rest,” Geralt claimed “not tonight,”

“Oh right, how about I give you something to take your mind off things,” Jester offered. She didn’t wait for Geralt to respond before she bounded over to the packs and opened the pink one. She pulled a book out and ran back over to Geralt and held it out for him.

“Here, why don’t you read this,” She offered.

Geralt took the book and looked at the title.

“Tusk Love?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s the greatest love story ever,” Jester swooned “Oscar is so handsome,”

“Uh-Huh,”

“You know it might be a good idea, I could make you some tea if you like,” Caduceus offered “to help you relax,”

“I’d prefer ale,” Geralt joked.

“Perhaps a bit later, for now, Tea will be more beneficial to you,” Caduceus claimed.

Geralt opened his mouth to answer but Jester beat him to it. “NOOOO!!” She cried “DON’T DRINK HIS TEA!!” Jester then leaned down close to Geralt's ear. “It’s made from dead people,” she whispered.

Geralt's' head snapped to Caduceus, who merely smiled. Giving no indication that he had heard Jester's accusation. Geralt studied Caduceus carefully, he didn’t appear or even look like the type who would ground up people and drink there remains.

“Uh…sure, tea sounds good…I guess,” Geralt said. He was unsure what Jester meant.

Caduceus nodded and he walked out of the room, only to return a few moments later with a cup and a teapot with steam coming out of it. He placed handed the cup to Geralt and gently poured him some tea. An assault of floral aroma hit Geralt's enhanced sense of smell, however, it wasn’t unpleasant.

“This is a unique and special blend grown in my home of the Blooming Grove. It’s mostly Camomile, with a hint of Lavender and Dandelion,” Caduceus explained “it will help you relax and the ease your bodies mussels that will encourage healing,”

Geralt nodded in thanks and took a small sip. He could taste the Camomile and the lavender made the aroma nicer. He could tell the tea was homegrown as he could also taste the earth itself within it. But there was nothing untoward in it.

“It’s…good,” Geralt said.

“Thank you, I will be sure to pass on your compliments to Patricia. She will be pleased to know you enjoyed her tea. As will the Wildmother,”

“The Wildmother?” Geralt asked.

“It’s the god he worships, our healing powers and magic comes from our gods,” Jester informed “However the Wildmother is not as cool as the Traveller,”

“Since when do Devils worship gods?” Geralt asked.

“I’m not a Devil, I’m a Tiefling,” Jester huffed.

“Who is the Traveller?” Geralt asked. He’d never heard of any god called the Traveller or the Wildmother.

“He’s the best and most powerful god ever and my best friend,” Jester claimed “We talk all the time,”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Geralt admitted.

“To be fair neither have the rest of us,” Caduceus claimed “at least until we met Jester,”

“So does your god-talk back?”

“Oh yeah,”

“Really?”

“Yep, like I said he’s the bestest god ever,” Jester boasted “I have some pamphlets,”

She pulled out a pamphlet that she mad and forced it into Geralt's hands. Geralt looked at it in confusion.

“Uh thanks,” he said and then looked back at Caduceus “Who is Patricia?”

“Patricia is the girl who grew that particular blend of tea,” Caduceus answered.

“Is she your daughter?”

“No, she came to the Blooming Grove sometime ago. Her parents left her in my care, they come to visit her every now and then but it’s not as often as it used to be,” Caduceus explained.

“How long has she been in your care?”

“She arrived when she was seven summers old and has been living in my garden for the last 14yrs. She planted that tea when she arrived and she has been growing it ever since,”

“It’s kind of you to take in such a girl at such a young age,” Geralt said sincerely as he took another sip of his tea “This child is clearly a very talented gardener,”

Geralt wasn’t a big tea drinker but this tea definitely was something else, he’d never had anything like it before and he wondered if Caduceus would let him take some back with him, he could give it to Vesimer as a gift the next time he saw the older Witcher.

“She is, I am glad I was able to help her and tend to her plants,”

“I thought Patricia grew the herbs and flowers that made this herself though,”

“She did. I merely assisted with watering and weeding, Patricia, however, did most of the work in growing the plants though,” Caduceus clarified.

Geralt nodded in understanding.

“We should go down to the others now,” Jester said “I’m getting hungry,”

“Agreed and Geralt needs his rest. We will be back to check on you before we go to bed,” Caduceus agreed and he started to walk towards the door “Come on Jester, let’s see if our dinner has come yet,”

“and maybe they will have a table I haven’t drawn a dick on yet,” Jester said hopefully as she walked out the door.

“Wait…what?” Geralt asked. But Jester was gone.

Geralt shook his head, he must have missed herd Jester. He put the Traveller pamphlet to one side as he had no intention of getting involved in a religion. He didn’t really care or follow any gods back home and he certainly was not going to start now.

Instead, he picked up the book Jester offered him and opened it up. He took a quick glance at the cat, who was still sound asleep at the end of the bed and had not woken up at all during the entire time the group had been in the room.

Geralt thought it was odd but put it out of his mind. He opened the book.

“Now let’s see what the fuss is about,” Geralt said and he began to read while taking small sips of his tea.


	4. Welcome to the Mighty Nein!!

_**A.n I own Nothing** _

_**Happy Easter everyone. Hope you stay safe during the holidays.** _

_**Please leave a comment below. I like reading the comments people leave.** _

* * *

Jester and Caduceus came downstairs to the main tavern area of the Leaky Tap. They spied the rest of the Mighty Nein already seated at one of the tables and a waitress was in the middle of serving hot plates of food and some mugs in front of the group. Jester and Caduceus walked over and arrived at the table just as the waitress left, they noticed that there were two plates and mugs in front of two empty spaces.

They sat down with Jester sitting next to Beau and Caduceus sitting next to Nott. The evening meal consisted of a plate of roast chicken with some boiled vegetables and a small bread roll with an ale on the side. As they ate their meals they spoke on various topics and after they had finished eating and their plates had been taken away. Geralt's condition was brought up, Fjord, asked a question that should have been asked earlier.

“I feel we should organise this now, but whose room is Geralt in?” Fjord asked.

“Vhat do you mean?” Caleb asked.

“We only paid for three rooms,” the half-orc reminded “two of us are going to have to share with him,”

“Not ours,” Beau immediately spoke up “Jester and I can’t share with a guy,”

“Beau, have you never shared a room with a man before?” Jester asked “what about where you grew up. Didn’t you say you were in a dorm room when you were younger?”

“Sure, but in the Cobalt Soul we had gender-separate sleeping quarters,” Beau claimed “Besides, us girls need our privacy,”

“That doesn’t sound like a good reason not to share your room,” Caduceus stated.

“Ture, I personally don’t mind but…if he wants to be around when we do our makeup and our nightly hair braiding and girl gossip, he can be my guest,” Beau said.

“Do you actually do that?” Nott asked.

Jester was about to inform the group that was not what the girls did at night before bed, but Beau shoved some bread in her mouth to keep her quiet.

“Yes,” Beau answered seriously “that is exactly what we do in our room at night,”

Jester looked at her confused and tried to correct the monk but it came out muffled, so she munched on her bread.

“Well I think it would be better if one of us guys share with him then,” Fjord said “so who's it going to be,”

“How about Caleb, he only uses one bed since Nott curls up by his feet every night,” Beau suggested.

“No thank you, there is a reason I only efer share with Nott,” Caleb claimed and took a swig of his drink.

“What about you Caduceus. Do you want to share with Geralt?” Fjord asked.

“I don’t mind, but it means Caleb has to share with you Fjord,” Caduceus pointed out.

“I’d rather only share with Nott,” Caleb claimed.

“We could just pay for another room,” Jester offered.

“Yeah but we need to replenish our supplies and I’d rather not pay for a fourth room until we’ve got that organised. Plus, we’re likely going to be in town for a while this time around,” Fjord claimed.

"Assuming we don't get conscripted into the war effort," Beau muttered.

"The king hasn't started forceful conscription yet," Fjord pointed out "the wars only been going on for about three weeks or so. They'll only start conscripting if things get desperate,"

“I don’t want to be conscripted or sleep in the same room as Geralt, he’s big and scary,” Nott said “he might hurt my Caleb while we sleep,”

“How about you Fjord, why don’t you bunk with Geralt,” Jester suggested.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Fjord shrugged. He then looked over at Caleb and Nott “Caleb, who would you prefer to share with, Me or Cad?”

Caleb looked between the Half-Orc and the Firbolg. “I suppose if I had to choose it would be Caduceus,” Caleb answered “what about you Nott,”

“I don’t mind, as long as you feel comfortable and safe,” the goblin responded.

“Well, I guess I’m sleeping with Geralt tonight,” Fjord announced.

They sat in the tavern till close to 11pm before the group decided to call it a night. Before they headed back up to the rooms Fjord ordered a plate of food for Geralt and took it up with him. When the group arrived at Geralts room they found the Witcher sitting up in bed, reading Tusk Love. Geralt looked up at the group as they entered and he set the book aside.

“Feeling any better?” Jester asked.

“Yes, much,” Geralt agreed. The truth was he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. What would have taken at least a week of healing, the combined effect of Caduceus and Jester magic, along with his own Witcher Mutations had caused his injures to heal at a faster rate than normal. 

“We brought you some food, didn’t know what you liked but they're serving chicken downstairs tonight,” Fjord said as he handed the plate to Geralt.

“Thanks,” Geralt grunted and he took the plate but made no move to eat it. Instead, he watched as the rest of the Mighty Nein wandered over to the pile of bags and they started to take one pack each and leave the room.

Jester took the pink bag.

“What are they doing?” Geralt asked with a hint of worry. He still hadn’t got his Medallion back; he had been so engrossed in Tusk Love that he had forgotten to find it. He would never admit it though and he would certainly never tell Vesimer or his other Witcher brothers either. Fjord looked over to the rest of the group.

“Oh, we worked out who’s sleeping where over dinner. We only paid for three rooms, so I’m bunking with you tonight,” he explained “Hope that’s alright,”

“Hmm,”

“Okay, I will take that as a yes,” Fjord said.

Once the other members had taken their pack and Fjord nealt down by his own pack and started going through it. Geralt observed for him for a but did not see him take out any weapons nor did he see a place to put or hold anything larger than a dagger or a small knife that could be hidden in the bag. Come to think of it, apart from the Bo Staff and the handled axes, Geralt didn't see any other weapons on the group. He supposed both Caleb and Nott could be hiding them, after all, he didn't get a good look at the tiny creature as she had been hiding behind Caleb. How did the group defend themselves with so few weapons?

“Oh right, I forgot,” Fjord said, pulling Geralt out of his thoughts. He suddenly stood up and turned to Geralt “Catch,”

Fjord threw something small across the room and Geralt reflexively snatched whatever it was out of the air with a tight fist.

“Nice reflexes you got there,” Fjord said nodding with approval.

Geralt grunted in response and he pulled his arm in and opened his hand to see what Fjord had thrown at him. In his hand was his Wolf School medallion. He quickly put it on and looked at Fjord.

“Thanks,” Geralt said gruffly. He may have come off ungrateful but in truth, Geralt was happy to have his medallion back.

“Your welcome,” Fjord said and he started to take off his armour. Once he was shirtless, he Geralt noticed that Fjords back had more than a few scars on it, though they were mostly gathered around the middle of the spine. As he got changed into his nightclothes, Fjord felt Geralt's eyes on him and he glanced over his shoulder at the Witcher.

"Shipwreck," Fjord started "encase you were wondering,"

"What?" Geralt asked.

"You were staring at my back," Fjord claimed "I used to be a sailor, our ship sank and well...I got a few souvenirs from the debris while I was in the water," Fjord then turned around and noticed that Geralt still had not touched his food “You not hungry or something?”

Geralt looked at his plate and shook his head. “Not really,” Geralt answered "didn't mean to stare,"

"No Biggy,"

"Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Fjord answered as he lay down in his bed.

“What are you?” Geralt asked.

Fjord was a little taken aback by the question “Excuse me?” he asked.

“What are you, I’ve never seen or encountered a species like you or your…friends,” Geralt had to force the word friends out as he was unsure if that was what they truly were.

“Well I’m a Half-Orc,” Fjord claimed “the offspring of an Orc and something else,”

“What's the something else?” 

“Don’t know, I would assume it’s human but…could be a number of things, to be honest,”

“Didn’t know there were any left,” Geralt commented.

“What?”

“Orcs I mean,” Geralt clarified “they're pretty much extinct now. It's rare to see on even rarer to see a Half-Orc since they don't breed outside their own kind,”

Fjord started at Geralt in complete shock “Since when?” he asked.

“Since forever ago. I think they were wiped out before the Empire was founded,” Geralt claimed “If I’m remembering my history correctly. I’ve never met an Orc myself but I read that they were brutal savage warriors who followed some kind of warrior code,”

Fjord stared at Geralt in shock. Orcs weren’t extinct, they thrived in some of the harsher environments of the world and while Half-orcs were a bit uncommon, they were not rare. Though he was right about the warriors' code.

“What about the others?” Geralt continued, ignoring the strange look Fjord was giving him “What are they? The blue one, the pale one and the smaller one,”

“Jester is a Tiefling, they come in a variety of colours with red being the most common. We had another traveling with us for a time and he was purple,”

“Where is he?”

“He…” Fjord stopped for a moment and looked down sadly “He died, very recently,”

“Sorry for your loss,” Geralt said sympathetically “Do you mind if I ask, how he died?”

“It…it was my fault,” Fjord said sadly “if I had been paying more attention or if I had been stronger then…then…”

“So, Jester is a Tiefling huh…never heard of them either. What about Caduceus and Nott?” Geralt asked. Changing the subject, clearly, it was a very tough and sore subject for Fjord.

“Oh. Cad is a Firbolg and Notts…” Fjord started but trailed off. He remembered what Geralt said about being a monster hunter and he would most likely see Nott as something to be hunted “Well you should ask her,”

“Your hiding something about Nott from me,” Geralt said with narrowed eyes "I don't like it when people hide things from me, especially if it has to do with monsters,"

“First off, we are not monsters and I don't particularly care if you like it or not. But Nott's story is...complicated and it's not my place or my story to tell,” Fjord shot back defensively.

“Fine. What about Caduceus and Jester. I’ve never heard of their kind either,”

“Tieflings are…interesting. Supposedly they were human once but something happened, no one's sure what it was anymore but the most popular theory is, supposedly during a summoning of a powerful demon or entity, something went wrong and it caused Tiefling’s to look like devils and gave them some devil-like abilities,” Fjord explained.

“So, they're just cursed humans then,” Geralt summarised.

“I guess it started out that way, but they’ve been looking like that for generations so they’re their own race now,” Fjord claimed “I’m not big on their races history so you’re better off asking Jester or a historian,”

Geralt made a mental note to do just that. “What about Firbolgs, what’s their story,”

“Not sure, don’t know much about them. Some say they were the first Druids, Mother Earths chosen protectors and all that. Others say they’re offspring of Giants who were deemed too small to be part of Giant society so they ran to avoid being stepped on,” 

“I’m sorry, did you just say Giants?”

“Yeah, nasty buggers. Very hard to take down,” Fjord claimed “don’t recommend fighting one,”

Geralt gave Fjord an odd look, from the way he was talking it sounded like he was talking from experience. He and Fjord spent another hour talking about different races. Geralt was relieved to know that there were Dwarves and Elves as well. However, from what Fjord said they were nothing like the Elves he was familiar with. Where he was from elves had lost their magic and were treated as third-class citizens, here however they were respected and welcomed anywhere. Particularly in the army or adventuring parties as they were invaluable and loyal allies. Also, there were more than six different subspecies of elves, each with its own history, culture, beliefs, and unique abilities.

Fjord didn’t know enough to go into all the different versions of elves and when Geralt asked about dwarves he learned that they too were different. They were crafters, warriors, priests and all manner of things. Like the elves, there were different sub-species of dwarfs, each living in a different area and each with a different history, culture and abilities.

It baffled Geralt and also scared him at the same time. While he was pleased that the Dwarves and elves were treated and seen in a much better light and treated near as equals. It scared him because Geralt was beginning to realise he may not be in his own world anymore. After a while Fjord turned in for the night, but Geralt lay awake thinking on what Fjord had said. It baffled Geralt and given his situation he could only conclude that he was not in his own world anymore.

But that was impossible.

‘I can’t be in another world, portals don’t work like that,’ Geralt thought ‘The only way I could be in another world is if the Conjunction of Spheres happened again. After what happened the first time, no mage would ever risk something like it again. Could I be in another era? The future maybe or a time before the Conjunction of Spheres?’

Geralt didn’t like either of those prospects, if he was in the future then it might explain a few things, perhaps new races had been discovered or some older ones who had been hiding due to the monster population were only just now emerging and integrating into society.

‘Possible…but does not explain the elves and their supposed return to magic,’ Geralt thought 'Or how their social and living situation has supposedly gotten better,'

However, if he was in the past then it had to be after humans arrived but before Witchers. A time before elves had lost their magic and been forced out of their homes. 

‘Perhaps Witcher mutations were based on me’ Geralt thought. now that was a train of thought Geralt refused to entertain. He did not want to be the source of Witcher Mutations or the reason the Trials existed. 

Despite the fact being sent back in time somehow seemed the more plausible explanation, it did not exactly fit. It would explain why Elves were treated better and had magic, however, if he was in the past after humans and dwarves came into the world, then it would have to be after the Conjunction of Spheres as well. The history from that time that he had learned of as a boy stated that during the first hindered or so years, life was extremely difficult due to the monsters who also entered the world due to the Conjunction.

Poverty, sickness and all manner of other things made life extremely difficult as the monster population seemed endless and out of control. It was why Witchers were created after all. To kill the unkillable monsters. Yet, Geralt didn't see any sign of fatigue or anything that would indicate hard times. The people who had found him, while extremely different didn't appear too bothered or even look remotely like how he would expect someone to look and act if they lived in a time that was considered the most dangerous era of history.

Then there was the magic that Jester and Caduceus had used on him. It was too powerful, no healing spell he knew or even heard of matched what the two healers had done. If such magic had ever existed then surely it would have been passed down in some way. The brotherhood would have records of it and if not, then surely there would be legends about it. But Geralt had never heard of any magic like it or even close to it. He supposed the elves might have had something like it but if they did then it was most likely long forgotten or the knowledge of it destroyed long ago.

Geralt rolled over trying to get some sleep, it didn't matter whether he was in the past or the future, neither possibility was ideal. However, he would deal with it in the morning.

* * *

The next morning when Geralt woke up he no longer felt any pain, he sat up and started to unwrap his bandages; noting that the cat was no longer at the end of his bed. It had likely scampered off in the night, odd that Geralt hadn't heard it though. Geralt didn’t care if Caduceus and Jester got mad at him for doing so, he just wanted to see the injuries he had. However, when the badges came off Geralt could not see any sign of them, there was no massive gash at his side, nor was there evidence that he had been shot. Geralt felt around the affected area but he didn’t even feel a scar.

“Well, that’s handy,” he said. Next, he flexed his arm and leg muscles to test them, just to make sure nothing was wrong and found them to be a little stiff. In fact, his whole body felt a little stiff, but it was nothing that would bother or hinder the Witcher.

It was just as Caduceus had told him last night. He was completely healed and the only evidence that he was injured, to begin with, was a slight stiffness in his muscles. Geralt could not help but be highly impressed as no mage he was familiar with had this kind of skill. Over a weeks’ worth of healing had been done in a single night.

Not even Yennefer. 

This was further adding to his ever-growing admiration for this newly discovered healing magic. He would very much like to learn the secret behind it, even though he was not a mage himself and while it was true Witchers had limited magical abilities. They were only basic compared to what trained Sorcerers could do, Geralt could think of a few spell casters he knew that would love to get their hands of such knowledge.

Geralt looked over to the other bed and found that Fjord was still asleep. He let out a sigh, wondering what to do, he thought about going through Fjords pack to try and find his armour and clothes but dismissed the Idea as doing so would likely wake the Half-Orc up.

No, it was better to wait for Fjord to wake and then ask him for his cloths and gear back. After all Fjord told him last night that they had kept his armour. Geralt didn’t know how long Fjord would sleep for. So, he reached out and picked up Tusk Love from his bedside table; opening the book up on the page he had left off last night.

About ten minutes into his reading session, Geralt herd the rustling of sheets, taking his attention away from the book. He turned his head and saw Fjord was tossing and turning violently in his sleep.

“No…don’t…leave the girls alone…” Fjord moaned painfully in his sleep “Take me…. don’t touch them,”

Geralt wondered what the orc was dreaming about, as far as he knew Jester and Beau were somewhere in the Inn, likely still asleep. Whatever this dream was about it sounded bad. He looked over at the window as he could now see the morning sun through it.

“Hmm,” he hummed “Bit late for a nightmare,”

“MOLLY NO!!” Fjord screamed.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and Fjord shot up out, a curved sword with a yellow eyeball on the hilt that had barnacles spread across the blade and dripping water appeared in the Half-Orcs hand. Geralt felt his medallion vibrate against his skin as Fjord looked around wildly with his Falchion held out ready to strike. Geralt never once took his eyes off the blade, he noticed the yellow eyeball appeared to dart around, as if it was looking for threats, after a second it stopped and stared at Geralt.

Geralt raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Now it made sense why he had not seen Fjord carry any Weapons, why would he need to if he could conjure them out of thin air. Geralt wondered if the rest of the group had similar powers. He made a mental note to ask about the magic sword later. For now, he watched Fjord looked around confused for a moment as if trying to find an unknown and hidden enemy. After a minute of panting his shoulders relaxed and he let out a long breath and lowered his weapon. The moment Fjords hand opened the curved blade vanished.

Once the blade was gone Geralts medallion calmed down. Yet another unknown magical ability he wasn't familiar with and was fairly sure didn't exist.

“Good Morning to you too,” Geralt said.

The half Orc looked over at Geralt before looking away “Yeah, morning,” Fjord responded.

Geralt watched as Fjord took a few breathes and he waited for the orc to calm down. Geralt was a bit concern about the very obvious magic blade that Fjord had summoned, but he didn’t bring it up.

“Sorry about that,” Fjord apologised “Hope I didn’t wake you,”

“No, I was already awake. No harm done,” Geralt replied “don't suppose I could have my cloths back?”

“Huh?”

“My cloths, you said you kept them. I mean I could go round Naked; I know the women of this city would probably apricate it but I don’t think the men would,” Geralt said.

Fjord laughed at that.

“Your clothes and Armor are in the wardrobe,” Fjord said and he gave a wave to the wardrobe “What’s left of them anyway,”

He stood up and pulled on his own gear before heading out of the room to give Geralt some privacy. Once Fjord was gone Geralt got out of bed and walked to the wardrobe, he pulled the doors open and found his dirty torn bloodstained shirt hanging up.

Geralt pulled it out and examined it, the bottom of the left sleeve had been ripped off and there was a large tear in the shape of four claw marks from where Geralts hip would be to his middle back; along with a small hole in the shoulder area. Geralt winced, while he didn’t remember fighting the harpies or the arrow he was supposedly shot with, but his shirt clearly showed evidence that he both events happened.

Geralt inspected the tear it was a clean rip; he also spied a large bloodstain around the tear. The shirt would more than likely need to be replaced. But it would do for now, since he didn’t have any other clothes.

“Thank the gods that Jaskier isn’t here, he'd drag me to some fancy tailor for a new shirt decorated in something light coloured and frilly,” Geralt muttered to himself “In fact, he’d probably insist on several new outfits,”

Geralt threw the shirt on the bed and inspected his pants, they were dirty but in a much better condition than his shirt. The only damage done to them was a second small hole on the side of his right leg. Geralt this also confirmed what he was told last night about having being shot twice. Finally, Geralt got his boots out and they were not damaged in any way, a little muddy with some straw stuck to the bottom. But still completely functional.

Geralt let out a sigh, he spied his armour at the base of the wardrobe and he bent down and was about lift it up to examine it when a banging on the door stopped him. Geralt looked over to the door.

“Hey, you dressed yet?” Fjords voice came through “The others have all headed down for breakfast, we should join them,”

“Fuck,” Geralt cursed. He didn’t think the half-orc would hang around or be waiting for him. Geralt assumed he would be left alone like he had been last night. He glanced down at his armour and decided it would probably be best to comply.

He quickly got dressed and opened the door. Fjord looked at him and the orcs eyes immediately went to the shirts tear and the bloodstains.

“You bleeding?” Fjord and pointed to the stains.

“It’s from yesterday. Didn't have anything else,” Geralt explained.

Fjord nodded and he walked down the hall towards some stairs, Geralt followed him and at the base of the stairs was the tavern area of the Leaky Tavern. Geralt spied the rest of the group sitting at one of the larger tables. He stopped midway down the stairs to get a view of the interior and the exits. It surprised Geralt that not only were the rest of the non-human members of the Mighty Nein sitting out in the open, no one was screaming or paying them any mind. Even more so when Geralt walked through the tavern, no one stared at him or gave him hate-filled or cautious glares that he was used to whenever he walked into a room filled with people.

Geralt and Fjord sat down just as breakfast was being delivered, the Witcher spied a familiar orange cat hanging around Caleb's neck like a scarf. He had wondered where the cat had gone.

"Is that your cat?" Geralt asked and pointed to the cat.

"Ja," Caleb responded.

"Hmm,"

One of the serving girls put down a plate of eggs, bacon and some freshly baked warm bread in front of each of them. If Geralt was surprised he got a plate too, he didn’t show it. The serving girl left and then came back with a tray of mugs of ale, a glass of milk and a pot of hot water. She put the milk in front of Jester and the pot of water in front of Caduceus, before handing out the ale to the rest of the table.

“You look like shit, Fjord,” Beau stated as she munched on her eggs.

“Rough night, how’d you sleep,” Fjord responded. He didn't sound offended so Geralt assumed this was just how Beau greeted people in the morning.

“Alright, I guess,” Beau shrugged “though Jester here went out like a light, used too much magic yesterday or something,”

“I had to do a lot of healing,” Jester defended “Yesterday was hard,”

“Vhat happened to make it a bad night?” Caleb asked as he picked his bacon off his plate and put it on the table. “Frumpkin,” He called and tapped his finger on the table twice. The orange cat jumped off Caleb's shoulders and hopped up onto the table; it started to eat the dried meat.

Caleb then picked up the bread roll and passed his plate of eggs to Nott, before beginning to eat the bread.

“Did you cough up sea water again?” Nott added as he took the extra plate.

“No, I did not cough up seawater again,” Fjord claimed irritably. Jester opened her mouth to say something but Fjord cut her off “Nor did I develop gills or turn into a puddle of water. I just had a bad dream,”

Jester shut her mouth and pouted.

“You cough up seawater when you’re on land?” Geralt asked with concern.

“From time to time,” Fjord shrugged.

“What about?” Jester asked “Was it about Dicks? Oh, did you have the dream where we were all infected with syphilis and your dick fell off when your trousers were down?”

“No jester I did not dream I had syphilis and my balls falling off when my pants were down,”

“oh, good because that’s one of my top 5 scariest dreams,” Jester said in relief.

“Higher Five or Lower Five?” Nott asked curiously.

“Lower, I have much scarier dreams than that,”

“Damn girl, what the hell kind of dreams do you have?” Beau asked.

“I don’t vant to knov,” Caleb muttered “and can vee not discuss syphilis over Breakfast?”

“What’s the matter Caleb? Got something to tell the group?” Beau teased.

“Ja, Frumpkin is stealing your bacon,” Caleb stated.

Beau looked down and sure enough the orange cat was there with Beaus bacon in her mouth.

“Hey!!” Beau yelled. Frumpkin darted off the table and up the stairs taking part of Beaus Breakfast with her.

“You told him to do that,” Beau accused, glaring at Caleb.

“I don’t knov vat you mean,” Caleb responded with smug smirk. He picked up his mug and took a drink.

Geralt watched the exchange with mild amusement, a small smile formed on his face.

“So, how are you feeling this morning Geralt?” Caduceus asked as he poured some hot water into his tea cup “any lingering pain?”

“No, I’m fine,” Geralt responded.

“That is good to hear,” Caduceus smiled and took a sip of his tea “would you like some more tea?”

“Dude it’s the middle of breakfast, leave drinking the corpses till after we've had a few rounds,” Beau scolded.

“I’m fine with ale for now,” Geralt said and he took a swig of his drink.

It tasted like piss.

“So, does this mean you won’t kill us now?” Nott asked “I mean we did save you and heal you,”

“Hmm,” Geralt responded "Haven't decided yet,"

The rest of Breakfast was mindless talk and making plans for the day. Geralt did take Caduceus up on his offer for a cup of tea and drank it, he tried to ignore the disgusted looks that the rest of the group was giving him. It was a different blend from the one he was served last night but equally enjoyable none-the-less. After he had finished breakfast Geralt went back upstairs to look at his armour. The rest of the group followed him up as well.

Once he was back in the room, Geralt inspected his armour while ignoring the chatter of the others, the same four claw-like gashes was in the same spot on the armour as it had been on Geralt's shirt. The gash was clearly made by something with sharp along and like his shirt, the tear went from his midside hip all the way to the back. If he wore this armour, he would leave a portion of his back and side vulnerable.

The way the armour was torn it was clear it would likely cost a lot to repair and it would be cheaper to buy a new one. Armor wasn’t cheap in general and armour that could withstand monster attacks was far more expensive. Geralt didn’t even bother looking for the arrow hole, he knew it had pierced his armour.

As he was inspecting it several small coins fell out just under the breast area. They rolled over and stopped a few meters away from Geralt. Geralt looked down to see Nott approaching them.

“Huh? What's this,” Nott asked confused as he picked up a crown “some kind of coin or currency?”

“Let me take a look,” Caleb said and Nott handed him the coin. Caleb looked at the coin and stared at it, he flipped it a few times but did not recognise it at all.

“It certainly looks like a coin of some kind,” Caleb agreed. He then picked up the other two and looked at each one of them “I don’t recognise any of these, it's not coin used inside the empire,”

“Why do you have coins in your armour?” Jester asked “Are you worried about being robbed?”

“No, it’s for extra protection,” Geralt answered.

“How so?” Fjord asked.

“Old Witcher trick, sew a coin into your armour above where your heart and other arteries in your chest are located. Hurts like a bitch if you get shot or stabbed, but it’ll prevent a killing blow,” Geralt claimed.

“That’s…a really good Idea,” Fjord said “I might have to try that,”

“Vat kind of currency is this?” Caleb asked. Ignoring the reason that Geralt had coins in his armour.

“That large one your holding is a Crown, the larger gold one is an Oren and the sliver one is a Mark,” Geralt explained.

“So, not just one currency but three,” Caleb said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, just don’t ask where I got the Mark from,” Geralt grunted.

Caleb continued to examine the coins with a deep and thoughtful expression on his face.

"Something wrong?" Caduceus asked.

"I'fe nefer seen these kinds of coins before," Caleb claimed.

“Maybe there from the Xhouassian side,” Nott suggested “we should ask Yasha when we see her next,”

“I don’t think so. I’m fairly sure Xhouass uses the same currency we do…maybe Beau's friends at the Cobalt Soul would be able to tell, where it’s from,”

“Those guys are bigger arseholes,” Beau snorted “You show them that they will take it, keep it and you will never get any information about those things or see them again,”

“Can I have those back,” Geralt asked. The Witcher held out his hand expectantly “it’s the only money I have,”

Caleb nodded and he walked over and handed the three coins back to Geralt. 

“I bet it’s the currency used in the sky,” Jester perked up.

“Your still on about that?” Nott asked.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but that might have some merit,” Caleb said.

“You can’t be seriously entertaining that theory,” Fjord asked flatly.

“Vell how else do you explain it?” Caleb asked “Vee saw the efidence that he fell from very high up and now money we’fe nefer seen before,” Caleb claimed “I’m not saying he came from a city in the clouds, but he must have come from somewhere else…perhaps another plane,”

“Another plane?” Geralt asked confused “What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to explain…hang on,” Caleb said. He walked out of the room and returned with a piece of parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle.

“Okay, so this is our vorld,” Caleb started and he drew a circle and marked it with an X in the middle “But it’s not the only one. This is the Fey Wild,” Caleb drew the second circle and marked it with and FW “and this is the Abyss” He drew a third circle and marked with an A “and finally this is the realm of the gods,” he drew one more circle and marked it with a G. “Now all these worlds, they all exist in the same space but are just slightly out of sync vith each other,” Caleb explained “These are vat vee refer to as other planes,”

Geralt stared at the drawing and he looked at Caleb in

“Are you talking about the Multiverse?” Geralt asked.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be familiar with that concept?” Caleb asked.

“I’m not, the mages where I’m from however are extremely well versed on it. I only know about it due to the Conjunction of the Spheres,” Geralt claimed.

“The what?” Nott asked.

“It's an event that happened nearly two thousand years ago. The sky opened up and all manner of creatures came through,” Geralt explained “Witchers were created about two to three hundred years afterward to fight them,”

“What kind of creatures?” Caduceus asked.

“Vampires, werewolves…mainly monsters. Though it is also said that Dwarves Gnomes and the first humans came through as well,” Geralt listed. “Oh, and a force called Chaos, though it's more commonly referred to as magic” He then noticed that the rest of the room was staring at him with their jaws dropped “What?”

“That’s it, Geralt you’re from another plane,” Caleb announced excitedly “Oh this is fantastic, the opportunity to speak to someone from another plane face to face and you're friendly to boot. Oh, the things I could learn,”

“he did say he was going to kill us,” Fjord reminded Caleb.

“Wait, wait, slow down. I’m only barely following this,” Geralt said “you're saying, that I'm not in my own world and somehow came to this one?”

“Ja, it makes sense. Vou thought ve vere monsters, you didn’t recognise anything on the map vee showed you,” Caleb listed.

“You told me last night you thought orcs were extinct and you’d never seen people like me, Jester and Caduceus before,” Fjord added “and we in turn have never heard of things you mentioned,”

“Like that healing sleep thing,” Jester stated "or Nilfgaard,"

“and now you have money that doesn’t exist here,” Nott finished.

Geralt stared at the Mighty Nein as he processed what they had said, he was of course curious as to why non-humans were treated better and the new and strange races. But Caleb and Fjord were making extremely good and convincing points.

“Uhh I don’t use magic so I’m probably not the best person to ask this but is that even possible?” Beau asked “I mean aren’t the other plans like…separate from our world and inaccessible or something?”

“They are,” Caduceus answered “though there are spells one can learn to gain access them, dimension door and Banishment are prime examples,”

“Those spells wouldn’t happen to work similar to portals, would they?” Geralt asked.

“They do actually,” Caduceus answered.

“Fuck,”

“But those don’t give direct access,” Caleb pointed out “In order to travel to another plane you need to meet very strict requirements,”

“And those would be?” Fjord asked.

“Well, firstly the one making the journey would need to have been to where ever they were going before, or at least have something from that world,” Caduceus answered.

“Ja, and if you want to remain there you vould need an anchor of some kind,” Caleb added “something to ground you to that realm,”

“What could be used as an anchor?” Geralt asked. Perhaps he had something on him and if he found it, he could go home.

“Could be anything really, though the more unique it is to that plane the better. Either way, you need something otherwise you go back to where you came from after a period of time,” Caleb claimed “I think the longest anyone gone to an outer plane without an anchor was…12 hours,”

“But I’ve been here over a day,” Geralt claimed, “You said you found me the night before last,”

“Maybe you have an anchor,” Jester offered.

“Doubt it, the only things I have with me is my armour, cloths, my medallion and those three coins,” Geralt claimed “and I was separated from them for almost a day,”

“Hmm…that’s a good point,” Caleb admitted “theoretically if you lose your anchor you go back to where you came from,”

“Oh,” Beau said suddenly getting an Idea “What if he was summoned, you know like your cat Caleb or a demon,”

“That’s a possibility, but unlikely,” Caleb said waving her off.

“Why is it unlikely?” Geralt asked. He did not like the idea of someone summoning him to this world against his will.

“Because if he were summoned then Geralt would appear before the summoner and he landed right in front…of…Jester…” Caleb trailed off and immediately looked at the blue Tiefling.

“Wait,” Jester cried out “you don’t think I summoned him, do you?”

“You brought me here?” Geralt accused angrily.

“No, No No No, I didn’t,” Jester quickly said shaking her head.

“You were the one who found him,” Fjord pointed out.

“and you were alone at the time,” Caduceus agreed.

“Yeah but I was peeing and I was almost out of magic at the time. Besides the only summoning spell, I know is the one to summon my lollypop,” Jester claimed.

“Then why did he land near you and not the rest of us?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t know, it was a coincidence. I swear I didn’t summon him,” Jester promised.

“I believe her,” Geralt said.

The group turned to look at him. And jester breathed a sigh of relief.

“She’s too sincere and her body language doesn’t lie. She had nothing to do with me being here,” Geralt claimed.

“Then how did he come to our world?” Nott asked.

“I told you, I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t even remember getting shot at,” Geralt reminded them.

“There are legends of places where the planes overlap and on occasion allow travel between the planes. Perhaps Geralt found such a place and fell into it,” Caduceus offered.

“What do you mean overlap?” Beau asked.

Caleb went back to his drawing and drew another circle. “Geralt, what did you call yourself last night?” Caleb asked and snapping his fingers “Witch…Watcher…”

“A Witcher,” Geralt supplied.

“Right, thank you,” Caleb said and marked the new circle with a W. He then drew arrowed lines linking all the circles to the one with the X and held the picture up for everyone to see.

“Okay so remember how I said that the planes exist on in the same space but are slightly out of sync with each other?”

“Yeah,” Geralt answered.

“Well there are certain places where the planes overlap and it’s at these places where our world and others are in sync, this creates a type of Nexus or rift that will allow travel between two worlds,” Caleb explained “

“Maybe those Harpies nested near such a place,” Fjord offered “he could have been knocked through some point during the fight,”

“But wouldn’t I need an anchor to stay here then?” Geralt asked.

“If you did come to our vorld via rift then nein, you wouldn’t. You only need an anchor if you use magic to get to another plane,” Caleb explained and he lowered the drawing.

“So, I just need to find one of these places, go through the rift there and that’s it? I’m home?” Geralt asked “It can’t be that simple,”

“It is in theory. The problem with that is you’d need to find an open rift first, there not always open. Then there is no telling which plane you’ll end up in until you get there,” Caduceus pointed out “if you go through the wrong rift, you’d be no better off then you are now,”

Geralt let out a long sigh and sat on the bed. Out of all the explanations on where he was or how he got here. Falling from another world was not one of them, he would have preferred his time travel theory then being from another realm of existence.

But there was one thing no one had an answer for, why couldn’t he remember anything after leaving Jaskier to find the Harpies.

“So…I’m stuck here?” Geralt asked.

“For now, at least,” Caleb answered.

“What about those spells you mentioned?” Geralt asked, “could I use those to get back to my world?”

“Well…maybe,” Caleb answered “Banishment would probably be your best bet but….”

“But?”

“But none of us know how to cast it,” Caleb said awkwardly “sorry,”

Geralt groaned. That meant he needed to find someone who could cast the spell and hopefully do it for free. Of the course, the likelihood of that happing was very slim.

“So, what are you going to do?” Beau asked. She was genuinely concerned for Geralt, after all he knew nothing about this world.

“I don’t know, I need to get back to my world,” Geralt claimed. He needed to collect his bounty for the harpies and his horse Roach. He also had to make sure Jaskier hadn’t gotten himself into too much trouble.

“and how are you going to do that?” Fjord asked.

“Don’t know, I guess I’ll try finding one of those rift places you mentioned,” Geralt sighed “look for a mage who can cast Banishment along the way,”

“Won’t you need supplies for the journey though,” Caduceus asked, “Clothes that don’t have Harpy claw marks in them and new weapons and armour?”

“I will, I’ll just have to take on a few contracts first,” Geralt claimed “Fight a few monsters,”

“and how will you afford weapons to fight those monsters?” Fjord asked.

Geralt didn’t answer, his current armour was no longer viable and he didn’t have any money for new gear let alone weapons. He doubted that anyone would just give him a weapon. Perhaps he could negotiate for an advance payment or provide him with a weapon to kill whatever monster contract he took.

He doubted the three coins he had on him would be worth anything in this world.

“I have an idea if you’re a monster hunter that means you’d be handy with a sword. Right?” Fjord asked.

“Very,”

“Tell you what. We,” Fjord said and gestured to the rest of the Mighty Nein with a finger in a circler motion “Will buy you new clothes, weapons, and armour. Along with any supplies you may need,”

“Ve vill?” Caleb asked.

“In exchange,” Fjord continued “you work for us until you pay us back the cost of your new gear and supplies,”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, he thought he could trust these people but now that had a better understanding of his situation, they were trying to take advantage of him and make him an indentured servant.

“No,” Geralt growled.

“Come on, we’re not that bad,” Beau tried “Besides you don’t know anything about this world, right? Or how to get back to your own, it’s a good deal,”

“If I agreed to that I would be setting myself up for exploitation,” Geralt reasoned “how do I know you won’t cheat me out of my freedom later?” He didn’t want to be tricked and if he agreed he would be unable to defend himself.

“Because you will be keeping track of how much money you pay back and when,” Fjord claimed.

“And what work would I be doing for you exactly?”

“Vee are trafelers, vee pick up odd jobs vhere efer vee can find it,” Caleb claimed “So far most of our vork has been to kill a monster of some kind,”

“That and break into places,” Nott added “though those don’t ever go well,”

“Yeah, we should probably stop taking those kinds of jobs,” Beau agreed.

“But they pay really well,” Jester pointed out.

“Ture but vee suck at them,” Caleb reminded them “vee always get caught,”

“Look we discuss all job offers as a group and everyone has a say in what we do, if you join us you will too. We also split the reward money evenly so you will get an equal share of the cut,” Fjord continued, ignoring the other members of the group.

That honestly surprised Geralt, he had heard stories of Mercenaries and sword hands working back a debt and not one of them involved giving any form of payment to the one in debt or having any say in what kind of job they would be given. All coin was withheld and when the debt was paid the debtor was left with nothing.

It was the reason why most Witchers took some kind of down payment before starting a job or at least something to ensure they would be paid afterward.

“Why bother giving me money if I owe you coin?” Geralt asked.

“Because dumbass you will need some gold to yourself,” Beau answered “You know to maintain those weapons or pay for your accommodation and booze on the road,”

“Pay for accommodation?”

“We don’t tend to stay in one place for very long,” Fjord shrugged “you will need to pitch in for your share of the inn and the odd round of drinks,”

“Plus, anything else you see that catches your eye, books and the like,” Caleb added.

“Ohhh…we should take him to our favourite bookshop Caleb,” Jester said eagerly “I wonder if the book I wrote in is still there,”

“No…no you are not going back that bookshop…ever,” Fjord declared sternly.

“Why noootttt,” Jester whined.

“Because last time you went there you came back with that god-awful love story,” Fjord said with a bit of red on his face “You won’t put it down,”

“To be fair…it’s a really engaging book,” Beau claimed.

“You’ve read it too?” Fjord asked in shock.

“Sure,” Beau shrugged. She then looked at Fjord and an evil grin appeared on her face “Oscar,”

“GAHHHH!!! WHY!!” Fjord cried out.

Geralt was very confused by this whole conversation and looking at the others it was clear all but Fjord was amused by where the conversation. He didn’t understand why Fjord was upset or why Beau was calling him Oscar.

‘Isn’t Oscar the name of the half-orc in the Tusk…’ Geralt thought and then his mind pieced together why Fjord was annoyed and red-faced ‘oh…oh…’

Caleb just shook his head while Fjord was trying to block out the teasing, Geralt focused on the remaining members of the Mighty Nein.

“Even if you promise me, what's to stop you from selling me or waking up in some slaver prison,” Geralt asked.

The whole rooms' atmosphere suddenly became cold and tense.

The group looked at each other and Jester lowered her head and looked to the floor. Several eyes glanced over at the blue Tiefling and Fjord with great concern; no one spoke for several minutes. Geralt wondered what had caused this type of reaction.

“That won’t happen,” Caduceus spoke up. Breaking the silence.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m fairly sure we murdered this regions slave ring last week,” Nott answered “So no worries on the chance of that happing,”

“Are you sure you got all of them?”

“Yes. Vee did,” Caleb answered in a deadly voice.

Geralt thought about it. On one hand, he would need supplies and new gear. He knew Witcher equipment was not cheap and he didn’t have any money that would work in this world. On top of that, he had no idea how to survive as this world would no doubt be vastly different from his own.

On the other hand, if he did agree he would get the necessary supplies he’d need. But he would be setting himself up for easy exploitation. While that wasn’t appealing at all what was appealing, (apart from the new gear) was he could learn about this new world while he travelled with the group and if they were true to their word and would allow him to manage his own debt then he could also start to save for his own journey home.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but I warn you now. If you cheat me or go back on any part of this, I will not hesitate to kill you in your sleep with the weapons you bought me,” Geralt warned in a very deadly tone.

“GAAAAHHHH!!! HE DOES WANT TO KILL US!!! CALEB RUNNNNNNNN!!!!” Nott screamed and she ran out the door.

Geralt blinked, he and the rest of the group the goblin flee the room. Geralt was not expecting that kind of reaction.

“Um, don’t use that phrase around Nott,” Jester advised “she scares easily,”

“I’ll go bring her back,” Beau sighed and she walked out of the room.

“Vait for me,” Caleb spoke up and he followed Beau.

“Glad to hear it,” Fjord said “and don’t worry, while you're with us we’ll take care of you and help you find a way home,”

Geralt nodded he was in a strange new world and had no choice but to trust them. He turned his attention to Caduceus.

“Since I will be staying awhile, I would like to meet Patricia. The girl who grew the tea you gave me last night,” Geralt requested. 

“I am afraid that is impossible,” Caduceus claimed “She died many years ago,”

Geralt suddenly froze as his mind raced at the implications on what Caduceus had just admitted. He didn’t know how a dead person could grow herbs for tea. Did the girl become a Wraith or an evil spirit or perhaps a Dryad? Was Necromancy involved?

“But you told me a young girl grew this tea when she came to your garden a little over 14yrs ago,”

“I did,”

“So how could she have grown this tea if she’s been dead for over 14yrs?”

“It came from the plants that grew on her grave,” Caduceus clarified.

Geralt blinked as that particular information sank in. Now Jesters' previous comments on why he should not drink the tea and the disgusted looks he had received this morning from drinking it made sense. Now Geralt had drunken a lot of strange concoctions in his time, from Witcher Potions, strong ale, he'd tested a few dubious miracle cures and even been on the receiving end of Lamberts various... recreational creations.

But he had never once drunken a dead person, until now.

“Fuck,” he swore.

“Welcome to the Mighty Nein,” Fjord said and gave Geralt a light pat on the shoulder.


	5. Jaskier and the Nilfgaardians

_**A.n I own Nothing** _

_**Please leave a comment below** _

* * *

After the group finished getting ready for the day, the Mighty Nein headed out to the busy streets of Zadash, in order to buy Geralt supplies and prepare him for the next part of there Journy. The first stop was a tailor, the shop was run by a middle-aged human woman and it displayed all manner of cloths. There wasn’t anything fancy, this was mainly for the common folk. The clothing was simple and practical, something which Geralt was relieved to see.

Jaskier would hate this shop.

While Geralt was getting new clothes Caduceus left, Jester tried to make Geralt try on different outfits and asked for a variety of different colours and Beau also suggested some tighter and less covered outfits. But the Witcher refused to indulge them. He tried on a variety of different styles but in the end, he settled on a simple undershirt, some night cloths along with two sets of travel clothes. One for warmer clients and one for the cold winter.

Geralt didn’t want anything expensive, he really only wore his armor back in his world; plus he wanted to keep his debt as low as possible. Nott surprisingly asked about smaller child clothes and bought a small royal blue jacket shiny golden button.

Once he had a new shirt and his travel clothes the tailor tallied up the bill to 2 gold and 5 silver. Jester paid for Geralt's clothes, she offed to pay for not but the small green girl refused and paid for it herself. Geralt was expecting it to be more expensive. The tailor also took Geralt's torn shirt and offered to dispose of it; the Witcher wore his new shirt out of the store.

Outside Caduceus was waiting, he held up a brown backpack and offered it to Geralt. Geralt took the bag and gave a Caduceus a questioning look.

“It’s filled with essential supplies,” He smiled

Geralt nodded and looked through the back, he found there a bedroll, some rope, and a tinder box, some dried rations, and other essential travel supplies in the bag.

“How much did this cost?” Geralt asked.

“10 gold. Don’t worry, I’ll add it to your tab,” Caduceus answered.

“Thanks,” Geralt grunted.

The next stop was a forge, Geralt was both looking forward and dreading this. While he was curious to see the make and quality of weapons in this world, he also knew that most of his debt would come from new weapons and armor. Along the way Nott ran off claiming to want to send a package out, Jester went with her while Caduceus followed to supervise the two. Caleb, Fjord, and Beau remained with Geralt.

The forge was run by an elderly dwarf who was busy with his work. “Be with ye in a bit,” He called out as Geralt and Fjord walked in. Caleb not interested in weapons decided to wait outside the forge.

“Take your time,” Fjord called back as he and Geralt started to browse the weapons on sale. “So, what kind of weapons do you normally use?” Fjord asked as he and Geralt looked over the weapons rack.

“Witcher swords,” Geralt answered.

“What’s uh…whats a Witcher sword?” Beau asked.

“Similar to this,” Geralt answered and picked out a Longsword “Wither swords are about this length, but stronger and far more durable,”

“I’m sure they’ve got some stronger blades, if not we can commission one,” Fjord offered.

“Withers use two different types of blades,” Geralt said “One made of steel and one made from silver. If possible, they should have some ruins in them too,”

“Runis?” Beau asked.

Geralt nodded. “Enchantments inscribed on the blades. Make the blade extra deadly,” he clarified “If we could get the armor Glyphed too, that would be ideal,”

“I take it glyphs are enchantments for armor,” Beau assumed. Geralt nodded and put the Longsword back in its place.

“The steel shouldn’t be a problem, but making one from pure silver and then adding the cost of the enchantments…that’s going to cost a lot,” Fjord commented “Maybe more then we can afford at the moment,”

“You know I’ve never heard of a pure silver blade,” Beau commented “I mean outside of ceremonial blades or one’s rich people display in their homes. As for the enchantments, we should ask Pumat to help, he might give us a discount,”

“Hmm…” Geralt responded. It was worrying that he may not be able to get a silver sword, how would he fight monsters without the correct weapons. They browsed the weapons for a few more minutes until the Dwarf came over.

“S’rry abot the wait. How can I help, ye lads?” the dwarf asked.

“We need two new swords and some new armor for this man here,” Fjord said and gestured to Geralt.

“Aye, we can do that. what kind ye be looking for?” the dwarf asked.

“Two very strong very durable longswords, one steel one sliver,” Geralt answered “they need to be sharp enough to kill monsters,”

“Ah, adventures are ye? Well don’t worry, I’ll sort ye out,” the dwarf responded. He wanded down the weapon rack and picked out to swords and placed them on the table for Geralt to look at.

“These be the strongest longswords I have, they’re above average quilty and usually what I sell to the guards and other mercenaries that pass through,” the blacksmith said “15 gold each,”

Geralt picked one up and studied it carefully. He gave it a test swing, the blade was well balanced and had a decent edge to it. Geralt would have preferred it to be sharper but his own swords were only sharp due to the amount of time he spent caring for them.

Geralt nodded in approval and placed the blade down before picking up the other one. Like the first one, it was a well-made blade. There was no difference between the two.

“These are well made,” Geralt praised “Do you have any sliver swords?”

“I can Sliver one of them, it’ll cost and extra hundred gold to do,” the dwarf answered.

“Ohh that’s a bit steep. You sure you need a sliver sword?” she asked Geralt.

The Witcher nodded and Beau let out a sigh.

“That’s fine,” Fjord agreed. Geralt glanced at Fjord, he would rather a blade made out of pure silver.

“So, I’m not getting a sliver sword,” he stated.

“You are, we’ll leave one of the swords here for him to silver and we’ll pick it up later,” Fjord explained.

“What do you mean you’ll leave one for his to silver?” Geralt asked “it’s already made from steel,”

“Aye, it is. See it’d be very difficult to get enough raw silver to make a full blade and even if I did have the necessary ore, the swords would be brittle and impractical to use in battle,” the dwarf explained “It’s easier to just coat weapons in silver than forge one from scratch,”

Geralt nodded in understating, he didn’t want a brittle blade but at the same time he was confused, smiths in his world made silver weapons. Granted those who did were few and far between as it required a great skill level. It was one of the reasons why Witcher swords were so expensive.

“Will it have the same effect as a blade made from silver?” Geralt asked.

“It will kill a vampire or a wear creature if that’s what yer asking,” the dwarf stated “though we don’t usually get them besties in these parts,”

“Hmm,” Geralt responded. If the sliver coated blade had the same effect as his own wither sword then he would make do.

“Can you inscribe some ruins onto the blade?” Geralt asked.

“Yer want what?” the dwarf asked confused.

“I want the blade enchanted,” Geralt clarified “what ruins do you have?”

“We don’t offer that, we just sell weapons,” the dwarf claimed.

“You’re a dwarf, surely you know how to enchant a blade,”

“Look human, just because I be a dwarf does not mean that I know how to make magic weapons,” the blacksmith huffed “Nor does it mean I am drunk all the time and I would apricate it if you did not assume and can do something just because of me race,”

Before Geralt could respond Fjord stepped in, he grabbed Geralts' arm and pulled him back a bit.

“Geralt I don’t know how it is on your world but here enchanted weapons are rare. Blacksmiths don’t make magic blades,” Fjord said in low voice.

Geralt glanced back over at the dwarf and then refocused his attention on Fjord.

“Really? Only dwarf or the most skilled blacksmiths in my world can make enchanted weapons and armor,” Geralt claimed, “What about your sword then?”

“The Falchion is…special. Look if you want your weapons enchanted there's a shop in town that could do it,” Fjord offered.

Geralt nodded. He turned back to the smith and approached him again.

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Geralt apologised, and the dwarf grunted in response. “What kind of Armour do you have?”

“All kinds depend on what ye looking for,” the smith responded.

“My last armor was a chainmail shirt under some heavy leather armor,” Geralt described.

“I gots a few Chain shirts in stock. If they don’t fit, I’ll need to make ye one from scratch,” the dwarf claimed.

“How long will it take?” Geralt asked.

“To make the shirt and sliver the sword…3 days,”

“Let's see what you have,” Geralt requested.

The blacksmith nodded and he pulled out the chain shits and Leather armor that he had in stock. Unfortunately, the blacksmith didn’t have a chain shirt that fit the Witcher, so he placed an order for one. He also ordered a leather armor to wear over the top of the chain shirt. Geralt did not want to wait, he would prefer to start working to pay off the Mighty Nein as soon as possible. The sooner he started taking on contracts, the sooner he could focus on finding a way back to his own world.

“That’s fine, we can wait,” Fjord said. Geralt shot the half-orc a glare but said nothing. There was really nothing he could do about it.

“Good, good. Anything else I can get ye?” the dwarf asked.

Fjord looked at Geralt but the Witcher didn’t respond. So, he assumed they had everything.

“A bottle of oil and 4 whetstones to care for the blades if you have it. Also, can we take one of the swords with us now, or do we need to leave them both here?” Fjord asked.

The dwarf nodded, he took back one of the swords and walked into the back room of his shop and returned with two whetstones, a bottle of cleaning oil; he placed it down on the counter.

“So, for the two swords, plus the slivering one. The armor, the oil, and stones will set you back…” the dwarf started and did a quick calculation in his head “190 gold and 5 silver. Ye can take one with you now,”

Geralt winced at the price, he wasn’t familiar with how currency worked in this world but he assumed that it was a lot of money. He hadn't even gotten his travel supplies yet. Never the less Fjord and Beau both pulled out their coin pouches and handed over the correct amount to the dwarf, and Geralt picked up his purchases and they left promising to come back and pick up Geralts order in a few days.

“How did it go?” Caleb asked. Once they had exited the forge.

“Geralt here is a big spender,” Beau claimed “At this rate, he will be working for us forever,”

Caleb raised an eyebrow and looked at the single sword that Geralt had.

“You only got a single sword,” Caleb observed “It couldn’t have cost that much,”

“Had to order the armor and leave the other to be slivered,” Geralt grunted.

“Ah that vould do it,” Caleb agreed “So where to next?”

“Depends. Geralt you need anything else?” Fjord asked.

Geralt thought about it, he had clothes, a weapon, and his armor were on order. The pack Caduceus had bought him would do for now, since he wasn’t traveling for a few days he wouldn’t be needing extra supplies just yet. The only thing he could think of was enchantments for his new gear and he wanted to look into potential ingredients for making Witcher potions.

“I wouldn’t mind knowing what enchantments are available for my new gear,” Geralt supposed “also I need to look into some potions,”

“Pumats then,” Caleb suggested and walked off.

On the way to Pumats shop Caleb got distracted by a book shop, he eagerly walked in and began looking for books. Fjord and Beau rolled their eyes as Calebs stoic and timid demeanour dropped and was replaced by one of that of a child in a toy shop.

The dirty wizard eagerly dashed from shelf to shelf, browsing and looking at all the books available. Geralt walked in and glanced around the shop, as he was, he felt his medallion start to vibrate. He glanced around looking for threats. He didn’t see anything so he made his way to Caleb and the closer he got the more his medallion vibrated.

Geralt narrowed his eyes and stalked closer to Caleb. Once he was close enough, Geralts enhanced hearing picked up on Caleb muttering some words, Calen waved his hands in the air and magical energy formed various different symbols in the air. Once he was finished, the wizards' eyes changed. They were no longer brown but a strange purplish-blue colour.

Geralt wondered why Caleb was using magic inside the shop.

“What are you doing?” Geralt hissed a little too violently.

“Browsing,” Caleb responded.

“With Magic?”

“Yes,” Caleb responded before he turned around and headed further into the shop.

Geralt followed him but kept a bit of a distance, occasionally picking out a random book and flipping through it. Trying to give the impression, that he was browsing and not stalking the wizard. Caleb was also picking out some books and flipping through them.

“Do like books Geralt?” Caleb finally asked, without looking up from the book he was skimming through.

“I get them every now and then,” Geralt admitted.

“What kind? Do you like fiction, or history, or smut?” Caleb asked interested, turning his attention to the Witcher.

“I mainly buy books of herbs, plants…beasties,” Geralt claimed “that sort of thing. They can be useful in my work. How about you?”

“I’m always on the lookout for books on magic, and magical theories. They can be hard to find outside the Solstice Academy and affiliated Libraries, but they are out there,” Caleb responded “I also like reading history or Smut,”

Geralt nodded, he browed the shelves and found one or two books on plants, he flicked through it but put it back. He didn’t want to add to his debt which was already becoming very high. Caleb, however, noticed the books that Geralt had picked out he looked at them briefly before turning his attention back to the shelves.

After about another twenty minutes Caleb emerged from the shop. He bought a book on plants and herbs for Geralt as well as a book on basic magic theory and bestiary. It didn’t cover the more exotic and dangerous monsters but it was a good place to start and Geralt apricated any information he could get.

Even if it did add to his debt.

After that, the group headed to The Invulnerable Vagrant, where Geralt had a very interesting encounter with Pumat Sol. According to the Mighty Nein Pumant could enchant items, Geralt asked about enchanting his weapons and Armor but to get do so would add over 3,000 gold to his debt. It was a lot more than the group had on them.

Instead, he got two health potions and a herbalism kit, in hopes he could make his Witcher potions. After leaving Pumats place, Geralt stopped in an apothecary, he wanted to get a feel for what kind of herbs that would be available to him. After speaking with the shopkeeper, Geralt was disappointed to learn that most of the ingredients he needed for his Witcher potions were either extremely rare or didn’t exist.

Caleb suggested that the ingredients he needed might have a different name in this world. Geralt wound up buying a book on Potion making from the apothecary. He didn’t want to be without any as he was used to keeping some on him at all times and Geralt saw no reason to break that habit.

After the visit to the Apocathery it was getting on in the afternoon, so the Mighty Nein headed back to the Leaky Tap. Once their Fjord sat down with the group at a table and they each informed him how much Geralt's new gear had cost. While Fjord was doing the math, Jester grabbed one of the two-coin pouches Caduceus had bought Geralt and started to paint the words “Pay Back” on it. The half-orc had recorded everything that the group had bought Geralt and he added up the total cost.

“So, your grand total comes to….810 gold, 12 silver, and 4 copper,” Fjord announced. Geralt let out a sigh, it was a lot more than he had expected and he knew it would take a very long time to pay it all back.

“I am surprised we had that much money between us,” Caleb stated.

“Caleb are you out of Money?” Nott asked “Do you need some more? I can give you some,”

“I’m fine, I have a good 20 gold leftover from today,” Caleb assured.

“Don’t you usually spend like 300 gold worth on paper and ink alone?” Beau asked.

“It’s a hundred gold,” Caleb shot back.

Geralt wondered why Caleb would spend so much money on paper alone.

“That brings up a good question, how much do we have left?” Jester asked.

“Enough to get by the next few days, but we should find some work soon,” Beau answered.

“What about the reward we got from the Gentlemen for taking care of those bandits who were obstructing his business?” Nott asked.

“We spent it on Geralt today,” Fjord claimed “the whole pot and a bit more,”

“Then vee should find some way to boost our coin,” Caleb stated “Though it should be in the city, Geralt doesn’t have his armor yet. So, nothing too dangerous,”

“Yeah good luck with that,” Beau snorted.

“You never know, there might be another spider in the sewers,” Jester suggested.

“Vee are not doing any work in the sewers again,” Caleb insisted.

“Come on Caleb, it wasn’t that bad,” Fjord claimed.

“Yes, it was,” Nott agreed “and it only got worse when we encountered those Xhoursian elves and stole their treasure,”

Geralt wanted to ask about it but decided against it. If this treasure was important then he assumed the group would tell him. Well, he hoped they would.

“It’s getting late, let's call it a day and check the Taskmasters board tomorrow,” Nott suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Fjord agreed. He looked over his shoulder as a serving girl walked past “a round of drinks here,”

Geralt sighed, his one consolation in all this was that Jaskier was safe.

* * *

Jaskier should have expected it, really. He’d been a nobody, not worth the trouble to rob before he met Geralt. Sure, he’s been someone back in Oxenfurt: a very excellent student, a brilliant professor, good at whatever he put his hands and mind to, but he had all of that behind in favor of an adventure. At first, it was difficult, being a wandering bard, playing at shithole taverns and bearly making anything and more often than not eating any food that was thrown at him for his less than popular songs.

But that was before he met Geralt when he had followed the Witcher his luck turned around. Sure he would be in constant danger from monsters and other nasties that Geralt hunted, and Jaskier complained bitterly about camping out and walking everywhere. But he had the best source of inspiration for epic tales and ballads.

After all what better way to create a then by seeing those creatures up close and personal with them. Even if Geralt never gave him any details or much information when he asked. So Jaskier had to get creative and exaggerate a bit on some of the finer details.

Despite Geralt's disapproval and constantly telling him to fuck off. Jaskier hung around and it was worth it for his name was now known and his songs were a favorite amongst both peasants and nobles alike.

It had also put Witchers in a new light, so now Geralt wasn’t chased out of every town he entered and was able to find contracts and people willing to pay him with a lot less hassle. Though they still encountered those who wanted to try and screw him over on more than a few occasions.

But that was all over now, the life Jaskier had led would come to an end. There would be no more songs, no new inspiration, no more adventures and no one to watch his back if he pissed off the wrong father, husband, or suitor.

Jaskier looked up at the Nilfgaurden solder he was being forced to follow. After he had pushed Geralt into the unstable Portal and Fringllia had pronounced him dead. The nilfgaardian mage gave orders for Jaskier to be brought to the Nilfgaurd. The bard thought they would be portals there as it was a very long trek to Nilfgaurd and with winter not far off it would make the journey harder.

However that was not the case, once the orders had been given, Fringllia opened a portal for herself and all but 10 of the solders she brought with her. The remaining soldier was to bring Jaskier to Nilfgaurd alive and in a reasonable condition. The captain promised he would ensure that Jaskier would be treated exactly how he deserved.

Once the portal had closed the captain of the reaming soldiers shoved the gag back into the bard's mouth and had Jaskiers bound hands tied to a length of rope and attached to a horse. Most of the five of the soldiers had horses to ride on and the captain had declared that his men would rotate daily, giving each man a day march and a day on horseback.

However, Jaskier was not part of that arrangement and was forced to walk. Dragged along by the length of rope that was attached to his bound hands. As they left the clearing Jaksier looked back at Geralt's fallen swords until they were out of sight.

Jaskier knew that no other Witcher would come looking for Geralt until spring. Since Geralt was starting to make his way back to Ker Moran for winter, as there was no work during the winter months due to all monsters hibernating.

When he and Geralt would not return to the village, Jaskier knew that some of the villages might try to brave the hunting grounds looking for them. If they did then Geralts swords would likely be kept by the villages and given to the first Witcher that came looking for him.

That thought filled Jaskier with dread. Geralt had told Jaksier that if a Witchers’ swords are found anywhere other than with there owner, it meant that the Witcher was dead. The others would hear of the contract and assume that Geralt had either died from the harpies or from his injuries and his body devoured by the hunting grounds more carnivorous occupants.

That was not the great end that Jaskier had envisioned for Geralt. He always assumed Geralt would go out fighting some powerful foe or ferocious Dragon. That would make a good story. He never once thought that Gealt would die by his hand and his stupidity.

Jaskier wasn’t paying attention, he just walked along behind his captors. Every now and then the soldiers would snarl and sneer at him. Trying to get a rise out of the bard, but Jaskier ignored them. He was too focused on the fact that he had killed Geralt of Riva.

Jaskier didn’t even notice that the company of solider had stopped for the night until he walked into a horses ass. He was left sitting against a tree they had tied him to tree, while the soldiers set up camp, and once they were done the captain came over and pulled the gag out a bit too forcefully.

Jaskier looked up at the captain, his armor was slightly different than the other soldiers but all Nilfgaardian armor looked the same to Jaskier.

“Enjoying your rest while the rest of use work?” the captain asked.

Jaskier blinked at him. His mouth still hurt from the removal of the gag. He was hungry and thirsty and exhausted from the days' march, while he was used to trekking long distances with Geralt. The Witcher took periodic breaks to give Jaskier a brief rest and avoided the harsher and harder paths.

“So, bard my men are tired and could use a little entertainment for the night. Since there are no busting nilfgaardian beauties around I guess you’ll do,” the captain said in a commanding tone “Sing us a tune or two and we might let you eat,”

“Not in the mood for singing,” Jaskier responded sadly.

“Oh, but you’ve had all day to come up with a balled about how you bravely betrayed and killed your friend in an attempt to save yourself,”

“That’s not what happened,” Jaskier snapped “I was trying to save him not me,”

“That’s not what I saw, that’s not what my men saw,” the captain mocked.

“Then you need to get your eyes checked,” Jaskier shot back “but then again I guess the Nilfgaurden army like its solders who can’t see. Makes it easier to blindly follow orders,”

Anger filled the captain's face. “Watch your mouth bard, it’s a long trek to Nilfgaurrd and you only need to be bearly alive. You’d do well to remember that,”

Jaskier sighed, he didn’t really have a choice. But he was too miserable to play for the soldiers, the captain thought he was being defiant and decided to teach him a lesson on respect and obeying his superiors.

“Rule one: Never speak unless you are told to. Rule two: You will obey all commands given to you by your superiors…which is everyone else. Finally, Rule three: If you break any of these rules you will be punished,” The captain said.

“Rule four: go fuck yourself,” Jaskier shot back.

The soldiers beat him for not providing them with an evening of entertainment and talking back. Not enough to knock him out, but close. He lay sagging against a tree breathing heavily. They’d stripped him naked and he’d bled a fair bit until they got bored and left him there for the night.

No food, no water, no clothes, and no blanket. He wasn’t even close enough to the fire to get warm.

The next day Jaskier was forced to walk the whole day without clothes. By the end of the day, his feet were cut and bruised from walking several miles both through the forest and over a gravel filled road. That night he was left tied to the horses, the soldiers didn’t even bother untying his leash. Feeling hungry and desperate for some food. Jaskier offered to sing for the soldiers in exchange for some food and water. However, the captain claimed that his men wanted an early night and Jaskiers' service would not be required. He was again beaten for speaking out of turn and presuming what the soldier wanted. As such Jaksier once again received no food or water; instead the captain tightened the bards' gag so he no one would not hear him complain.

Unlike the first night, this time, the soldiers who were on watch were ordered to keep Jaskier awake throughout the night. They did so by giving him a sharp kick to his side every hour. It wasn’t enough to break his ribs but it definitely hurt them.

On the third day, Jaskier was finally allowed to get dressed again. However, his relief was short-lived as his feet had developed blisters and that night Jaskier and the soldiers discovered they had popped and become infected. Despite this, he was still forced to walk. That night, in a very poor attempt to deal with Jaskiers infections, the captain heated up the tip of his sword and used the blade to not only burn out the infection but also cartelize the wounds.

It was excruciatingly painful and Jaksier screamed and cried through the whole ordeal until his throat was horse. The captain didn’t care, he merely told the bard to suck it up and stop being a baby. Afterward, Jaskier was finally given some food, though it was only scarps and a small amount of water that night, and due to the pain he could not keep it down.

This earned him another beating from the captain and the soldiers.

On the fourth day Jaskier could not walk, he bearly had anything to eat or drink in almost three days, the long march without sustenance left him weak. After the first hour, he collapsed on the road and could not get up again.

“Get up,” the captain sneered “if fall behind or don’t cover significant groud today you will suffer for our delay,”

Jaskier didn’t respond. He didn’t have the energy, he just lay there on the ground breathing heavily.

“Sir, he looks in a bad way,” one of the soldiers said. He walked up to Jaskier and prodded him with his boot “I don’t think he can walk at all,”

The captain clicked his tongue “What a selfish bard you are. You expect us to feed you, yet you don’t put any effort or work in to earn that food. Now you collapse only after three days of walking? Pathetic. Tell me were you this self-centered when you were following that freak around,”

“Geralt…was…not…a…freak,” Jaskier wheezed out. One of the soldiers kicked him in the gut for his response, causing Jaskier to gasp for air.

“If you can talk back then you can walk,” the captain spat “were continuing, if you don’t walk you will be dragged,”

The captain gave the order and the march continued, unfortunately, Jaskier was dragged behind the horses. Around noon, one of the soldiers took pity on the bard and insisted that he be allowed on one of the horses. The captain only agreed when he was reminded that Fringllia wanted the bard alive.

However Jaskier was not riding a horse, instead, he was slumped over it, behind the saddle like a sack of flour. His hands still bound.

By the fifth day, It became clear that Jaskier would not survive the long trek to Nilfgaurrd. He was ill and running a high fever from his infections. Being exhausted and dragged for half the day did not help.

Upon discovering how bad the Bards condition was, the captain pulled out a crystal and smashed it. A strange purple mist appeared before evaporating into the wind. A few minutes later, a portal opened and Fringla stepped out. She looked at Jaskier with a mixture of annoyance, contempt, and disappointment.

“You had that the whole time?” Jaskier asked weakly “Why the hell did we walk if you had a way to call up that mage?”

The captain responded by slapping him across the face. “I thought I told you never to speak unless you were told too,” the captain stated.

“Not even five days, I thought he would last longer than that,” Fringllia said disappointingly “Did you treat him as he deserved?”

“Of course, the little shit is just weak and useless,” the captain snorted “His feet are infected and he can no longer walk. Personly I thought someone who traveled with a Witcher would be used to long marches and harsh treatment,”

“As did I. Makes me wonder why the Witcher kept him around,” Fringlia agreed.

“Who knows, maybe the mutant freak used him as bait for the monsters,” the captain suggested.

“A clever strategy,” Firngllia agreed in approval “Either way we shall have to portal the rest of the way. Bring him,”

A couple of soldiers hoisted him up by his arms and dragged him through the portal. Jaskier didn’t really register where he was been taken too, it was all a bit of a mixed and painful blur. However not long after they had passed through the portal something nice smelling passed under his nose. He took a few deep breaths and whatever it was made the pain in his body had suffered at the abuse fade.

It also made him feel sleepy and his eyes got heavier the more he breathed it in. However, the nice smelling scent was taken away and the bard felt himself being dragged away again. Jaskier thought he herd Fringllia say something but he couldn’t make out the words.

The guards deposited him in a small dungeon cell, they manacled his wrists to the chains on the wall and left him there. As Jaskiers conscious was left him and he thought about Geralt, how the Witcher would have to come and rescue him from another bad situation.

Only to remember that Geralt wouldn’t come. He wouldn't be there to get him out of the horrible situations Jaskier had the habit of getting them both into. Not this time and not ever again.

Something which his Nilfgarrdian captors would no doubt love to remind him of.


	6. The Traveler's Travels

_**A.n I own Nothing.** _

_**Please Comment** _

* * *

It was a pleasant day, even though the sun was high in the sky and there were only a few clouds. There was a cold nip in the air. The chill was the first signs of the approaching winter, it was still too early for the first snow to fall but the people could feel it coming and it was not far off. With the transition into winter quickly approaching its end, days like this would become scares and be replaced with a dull grey sky.

However, on this particular day, something was going to happen. The people did not know it nor could the greatest of mages have predicted it. But they were about to get a strange visitor. This visitor was not one from another province or kingdom. No, this one was a Traveller from another world, one whose curious and innocent actions would set in motion a chain of events that would one day lead not one but two worlds on a path to destruction.

A round door opened into a clearing off the side of the road and a green cloaked hooded figure stepped out into the light of day. With the door closing behind him and vanishing from sight as if it was never there. The figure looked around, listing to the sounds of the world. The birds, wind in the trees, it was as if he was listening to the world itself.

The figure lifted his hand and looked at the small glass crystal ball that fit into his palm. Inside was a swirling mist. A large grin formed on the figure's face and he carefully placed the crystal ball inside his cloak.

“Well now, let's see what this new world has to offer,” the hooded figure said with a smile.

The figure leaped into the air and flew following the road. He had no idea where he was going and quite frankly the figure did not care, all he wanted was to find a settlement or some village to begin his exploration of this new and strange world.

As the figure flew, he reached out with his senses to get a feel for the world. He could feel magic, but it was wild and chaotic. The figure was unfamiliar with it and tried to reach out, yet every time he felt he might have a hold of the magical energies of this world it would slip from his grasp.

It didn’t matter to the cloaked figure though; he would come to understand the magic of this world and control it in time. After all, he was born of Magic himself and had a very powerful connection to its source.

Sensing a large cluster or humans was not far away the figure flew for a bit longer before landing and then walking along the road towards the source. After a good twenty minutes of walking, the figure came upon a sign and he stopped to read it.

“The village of Fano. Hmm…interesting name,” the figure commented. He looked up and a little bit further down the road was a village. Fano was bigger than the average village it was more of a town. Not an overly large one at that either, it was the type of place one could stopover on a journey and sell wears or loot and get a decent price.

The hooded figure walked through the town, taking in all the details he could. He passed by various vendors who were shouting out deals and bargains, trying to get the townsfolk's attention. As he walked, he noticed there were a lot of people in black armour around. The figure assumed they were soldiers or the local town guard. 

As he wandered through, he got a few curious looks from the local and more suspicious looks from the soldiers. He stopped now and then to look at a market stall or just to observe his surroundings. During one of these observations, something caught his attention, a little further down from where he was standing an older man was arguing with two of the soldiers, meanwhile there were two more who were loading various swords and armour onto a cart.

The man was in his older years, not elderly but certainly no longer young, he had a round body, but his arms were very muscular. He was wearing a dirty soot-stained leather apron over some dirtier clothes.

“Look you can’t just take my wears without paying,” the man said.

“You expect us to pay? The fact that we are even considering using your second-rate craftsmanship should be payment enough,” One of the soldiers scoffed.

“You should be grateful,” the second Solider claimed.

“You are stealing my stock, what should I be grateful for?” The man demanded.

“We defend you from the outside threats, as Nilfgaardian citizens you should be grateful we even bother coming to a shitty uncivilized town like this one,”

“Besides It’s not stealing. We are Nilfgaardian soldiers and this village is Nilfgaardian territory. Therefore, everything in it belongs to Nilfgaard and thus it is not stealing,”

“Uncivilised…look here I don’t care if you’re a bloody king or a fucking mutant. You want those words you pay for them,” The man fumed “and we aren’t Nilfgaardian citizens, Fano is part of the Tossent empire,”

The first man looked around.

“I don’t see Tossent soldiers here, or any other sign that this village is a Tossen,"

“You lot killed them and burned all our banners. Your men replaced them,” the man argued “You did that less than two days ago when you and your army rode in and took over,”

“If a village or town flys Nilfgaardian banners then they are Nilfgaard,” the first soldier said “and as such we are allowed to take what Nilfgaard needs to survive,”

“But if you take all my wears how will I make a living?” The man demanded “Provide for my wife and children,”

“That is not our problem, we need all the weapons and materials we can get for the war,” the second soldier explained “Expanding an empire isn’t easy and you should have thought of that sooner or been born into a wealthy family…though what family would ever want someone like you is beyond me,”

The other two soldiers were loading up the weapons sniggered. The man who was very obviously being robbed had had enough.

“That’s it, I’ve had it. The only way you're getting my stock is over my dead body,” the man snarled and he reached for one of the swords.

“I find your price acceptable,” The first soldier said. He drew his sword and ran it straight through the man's heart. The man gurgled and slumped to the ground, the earth under him stained red with his blood. The soldier looked down at him in disgust “Not only does he impede us he got my blade dirty. Disgusting,”

He then turned to look at the other soldier. “Strip this place bear of everything value and set this place ablaze,” the soldier ordered.

“What should we do with the body?” the second soldier asked.

“Step over it, of course, we wouldn’t want to not pay the man his asking price,” the soldier grinned. The others laughed and got to work.

The hooded figure watched for a few more moments, he looked at the surrounding people but no one made a move to stand up to the soldier s or even try to stop them. Once the soldiers were inside the figure walked past and continued on his way.

When he reached the town center, he stopped outside what looked to be an inn or a tavern, at least he assumed it was a tavern since he could hear terrible music and the smell of alcohol wafted from the inside. It was a two-story building with more than a few windows and a low hanging sign above the door; the sign read “ _The Bottomless Barrel_ ”

“Hmm, this could be a good place to get some information,” The figure said to himself. He walked up to the door and pushed it open.

The inside was a fairly large and open area, it was filled with tables of different sizes and at the back was a stage. Though no bards or music were playing. The endless Barrel didn’t have the atmosphere of an inn or a tavern that was expected. Instead of being with loud music, drunken laughter, and joys merriment the room was dead quiet.

The figure could only barely hear soft murmurs from the patrons inside. There weren't many tables filled. It looked like a few tables had been occupied but had suddenly up and left as there was still half-drunk mugs of ale and even plates of food that hadn’t been touched sitting on a few of the tables.

There was only one serving girl and she was busy trying to clear the tables. The figure walked up to the bar, behind it was a fat man with a small beard and a bald head. He was wearing dirty clothes and an apron that only barely fitted and was covered in different spills.

The barkeep looked up as the hooded figure placed his arm on the bar and leaned on them.

“What can I get ya?” the barkeep asked.

“Greetings, I am new to this region and was hoping you’d have some information about the area,” the hooded figure responded.

“Here’s some information for you, get outa town,” the barkeep huffed “we don’t like outsiders,”

“Clearly,” the hooded figure agreed. If the confrontation in the street was anything to go by “I have already seen the hospitality of your local militia. I was hoping you would be more… accommodating,”

The barkeep raised an eyebrow and gave the man in front of him a suspicious look. “We ain't got a local militia, not anymore anyway,” he said.

“Oh, but I saw some ghastly fellows in black run a poor man through and talk about a war,”

“Ye’r got a name?” the barkeep asked.

“I have had many names…however you can call me The Traveller,” The Traveller introduced.

“The Traveller huh, bit of a pompous name,” the barkeep snorted.

“Well, …we can’t all choose the names we are bestowed,”

“Too true that. Those people you saw, they dress in black armour?”

“Indeed, they were,”

“Damn, Nilfgaard,” The barkeep swore “You with em?”

“I have no idea who or what a Nilfgaard even is,”

“Where the hell have you been living?” the barkeep asked.

“Oh, here there…and a little of everywhere,” the Traveller responded cryptically with a smirk.

“Right, see those men in black armour behind you,” the tavern keeper asked and gave a nod with his head. The Traveller turned around to look and he saw four men in black armour at a table not far from the bar. The other patrons were giving them a wide berth, the Traveller could see the hate in their eyes, but the rest of the occupants looked down as if trying there best to avoid the soldiers' attention.

“Them be Nilfgaard,”

“I see,” the Traveller said and turned back towards the barkeep “they look to heavily armed for a small town like this. Pray tell me why they are here,”

“They’re on a warpath, conquering every kingdom and taking over every village and town they come across. In each place they visit, the leader of the where ever they go is given till the next sunrise to surrender all resources and assets to the Nilfgaardian army,”

“And if you don’t surrender?” the Traveller asked curiously.

“They attack, they round everyone up, take everything and then burn the place to the ground and once where ever they are is burning then they kill those who resisted them…which is everyone,”

“Did your leader surrender?” The Traveller asked.

“Aye, that he did. Right away, some of the younger and tougher boys protested and they were cut down on the spot,” The barkeep growled.

“I see, that does explain why no one wanted to help that man,”

“Aye, we just got to give them what they want and hope they leave Fano standing when they leave,” The barkeep sighed.

“I see…then I shall Endeavor to stay out of there way,” The Traveller stated, “May I assume from the way you were glaring at that table, you are not a fan of Nilfgaard?”

“Aye, truer words have never been spoken,” the barkeep grunted “they’ve been coming in here every day for the last three days and not once paid, think they’re above it,”

“Hmm…I don’t suppose you have a map I could look at do you?” The Traveller asked.

“I got one in the office, but I’m not going

“I tell you what, you let me look at that map and give me some directions and I will make soldiers pay their bill,” the Traveller offered.

“Yeah right, like that will ever happen,” The barkeep snorted.

“Only one way to find out,” The Traveller shrugged.

The barkeep let out a sigh, he signaled the serving girl and told her to watch the bar while he was in the office. He came back ten minutes later with a rolled-up map under his arm and offered it to the Traveller. The hooded figure had not moved from his spot other than to glance around the bar, yet he always kept an eye on the table with the soldiers.

Once the barkeep had the map laid out, he went over the area and pointed out different roads and where they led to. He also offered advice on the surrounding villages but urged the Traveller to flee this part of the country before Nilfgaard completely took over.

The Traveller in tun paid close attention and asked his questions. In the end, he decided to head northwest. Taking the road to Tegamo, where he would be able to buy a proper map for himself and hopefully learn more about this world.

“This has been both interesting and enlightening,” the Traveller said happily “thankyou indeed,”

“Yeah yeah, now what about them Soldiers?” the barkeep asked, “How are you going to make’em pay?”

“Ah of course, but before that…” the Traveller trailed off and with a flick of his wrist produced a single gold piece and held it in between his fingers “I would like to purchase an ale if you please,” he said as he placed the coin on the counter ad slid it towards the barkeep.

The barkeep stared at the gold and gave the hooded figure a surprised look. Although he was eager to get the Nilfgaardians out of his establishment the barkeep was not going to turn down a sale. “Fine,” he huffed and turned his attention to getting the ale.

While the Barkeep filled his order, the Traveller vanished from sight and when the barkeep looked up the hooded figure was gone. He glanced around the tavern but there was no sign of him. The barkeep looked down and the gold piece was still there. He picked it up and looked at it, not noticing how the light coming in through the windows was subtlety changing.

Though the barkeep did not see the Traveller, in reality, the Traveller was still there, he was just no longer visible to the mortal eye. He walked up behind one of the Nilfgaardian soldier sat their table smacked him hard on the back of his head. This caused him to jerk forward and spill his tinkered of beer. The soldier looked up immediately, with anger on his face looked around for the culprit. However, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, except the barkeep had a gold piece in hand and was examining. Testing to see if it was real or not.

A smile crept over the soldiers' faces.

“Hey, look at that,” the soldier said and lightly smacked one of his companions' arms. The rest of the table looked at him and then saw the gold piece with the light now reflecting its shine.

“Payday,” One of them said with a greedy smile.

They all got up walked over to the bar, they leaned on the counter heavily with there eyes glued to the gold piece. The barkeep looked at them in both fear and confusion.

“Well now, I dare say you have been holding out on us,”

“No sir, I…I haven’t,” the barkeep stuttered.

“Oh yeah, that pretty little gold piece says otherwise,” the soldier responded.

“This sir was payment for an ale,” the Barkeep explained. He knew what the Nilfgaardians wanted and if they suspected he had more money than they thought then the soldiers would not hesitate to take it from him by force. “A green cloaked gentleman just gave it to me,”

“Oh?” the soldier asked and looked over his shoulder. Scanning the room for someone wearing a green cloak. He didn’t see anyone the barkeep had described “and where is this patron of yours? Because the only people I see are grubby peasants who would feel more at home in a pigpen,” the soldier sneered “Since that is the case, we will be taking that as your contribution to the Nilfgaardian cause,”

The soldier held his hand out, expecting the barkeep to hand the coin over. However, the Barkeep was not having it.

“I can not give this to you as it is payment for selling goods,” the barkeep said seriously “especially since you and your men have been here for thee days and have yet to pay your tab,”

Anger filled the soldier's face. He quickly grabbed the Barkeep by his shirt and pulled him across the counter.

“You want us to pay for you? Don’t you get it? Nilfgaard owns your town, Nilfgaard owns you. We are Nilfgaardian soldiers so that means we own you. Your lucky we let you live,” the soldier sneered “However that luxury can easily be taken away. Now give me the coin your pathetic fat waste of life,”

Remaining unseen and across the room, the Traveller watched this display, he raised his arm and flicked his index finger down. The moment he did all of the soldier's belts unbuckled and their trousers fell.

“What the…” the soldiers cried out.

Feeling the grip loosen, the barkeep shoved the soldier away from him and the soldiers all stumbled back. Due to the soldier s having their trousers they stumbled back and struggled to keep their balance before tripping over each other.

The Traveller grinned and flicked his finger again, this time a stool moved on its own and got in the way of the soldiers, causing them to trip over and fall onto a serving maid, who had just come down from cleaning the upstairs room. She was carrying a bucket of dirty water and it splashed all over the soldiers when they crashed into her.

The woman screamed in fear and slapped the soldier who had threatened the barkeep with such force that he crashed into the table behind him. Breaking the table. The soldier snarled and stood up, pulling up his trousers and drawing his blade, the other three followed suit.

Before the Nilfgaardian could use their weapons, the Traveller made a table fly into the group of soldiers and bat them towards the door. The Traveller snapped his fingers and time seemed to slow to a near stand-still. He walked towards the door, passing by the guards and the few patrons in the bar.

When the Traveller reached the door, he held it open and snapped his figures again; willing himself to be seen by mortals once again. The moment he did Time returned to normal, he held the door open and the soldiers flew out of the inn. As they passed the Traveller lifted their coin pouches off each one. The soldiers landed on the main road through town, each skidding to a halt and faceplanting into a pile of fresh manure. Once the soldiers were outside, the Traveller slammed the door shut for dramatic effect.

The entirety of the bar was now dead quiet and staring at him.

The Traveller glanced around and approached the bar and placed the four-coin pouches on the counter before reaching for his mug of ale and downing it in a few seconds. When he was finished, he placed the mug back on the counter and looked directly at the barkeep.

“Thanks for the drink,” he said and then faded from sight. The barkeep and the other patrons stared with their mouths gapping.

On his way out of town, The Traveller snatched an apple from a fruit vendor, the owner of the store didn’t notice. As he walked down the main road heading out of Faron, tossing an apple in the air and catching it over and over with a very smug and satisfied look on his face. “Well, that was fun,” He commented “I hope all towns are as lively as that one. Oh and I really must remember to thank Jester for the suggestion of having people drop there trousers next time I see her. It’s hilarious,”

The Traveller continued his journey over the next week, stopping in every town, village, and city looking for information about the world and learning what he could. Trading favors for the information he requested. Those he bartered with had small requests, some extra coin or food, and shelter for the night. These were easily met and one person even asked him to help attract the attention of a woman.

The Traveller granted all the requests in his way, sometimes this caused more trouble for those he spoke too. Normally he would not bother as he found being bombarded with prayers and demands bothersome. However, he had two very selfish reasons for doing so. The first was to gain information about this world and the second was to give himself more of a presence in this world and subsequently increasing his powers.

The more requests he granted the further the rumor spread about a hooded figure granting wishes and boons for the small price of a conversation. The rumor had started not long after he left Fano and headed to the city of Claremont. By the time the Traveller left Claremont, word had spread amongst the merchants and poorer folk about a strange visitor granting wishes. He encountered Nilfgaard multiple times, some encounters were on the road while others were in towns and villages.

His travels eventually took him to Vizima, the capital of Termina. The Traveller had headed north to try and avoid the Nilfgaardian army, as one to many encounters had left them furious and demanding his head. The Traveller knew the Nilfgaardians would be unable to hurt him, let alone kill him. He was an ancient entry with god-level powers at his command. However, the Nilfgaardians had become his favorite victims, not because a good portion of requests he granted had something to do with teaching Nilfgaard a lesson or humiliating them in some way.

The Nilfgaardian army was his favorite victims because they were uptight assholes and the look of anger and embarrassment on there faces whenever he brought them down a peg or they fell for his pranks was just too funny. The Traveller felt he should leave them be for a while. Let them stew and wait in suspense and expectation that he was going to pop out of the shadow at a moment's notice. Only to never emerge, he would appear and have some more fun with them, but only when they finally relaxed, believed he was nothing more than a phantom, he would strike again.

Thinking about it made the Traveller very excited indeed. After all, it wasn’t like he had killed anyone, his pranks were harmless…most of the time.

By the time The Traveller arrived in Vizima, he had a good grasp of how society worked in this world, as well as how to manipulate magic. Walking through the streets of Vizima was interesting, the difference between the other city and inner-city was like day and night.

The outer city was dirty, diseased, and downright unpleasant. It was filled with thugs, beggars and while there were a few decent hard-working folks and shops, it was a slum and there was no other way to describe it. However, the inner city was well kept, patrolled regularly and in comparison, to the outer part of the city, it was gorgeous.

One thing the Traveller did note, there were only humans in the inner city. He had seen elves and dwarves walking around in the lower city, but there was no trace of them in the inner city.

He didn’t bother going to an inn or stopping to ask for information from the locals, even though more than a few would benefit from his offer. He was getting a bit tired of the ideal gossip and rumors he normally got and headed straight for Vizima castle.

No, what the Traveller wanted now was information on Magic. While he was able to harness and use magic in this world, he didn't have any information on its origins or who could use it. From what he’d seen, almost the entirety of the population didn’t have a clue as to what magic could truly do, let alone how to use it. The Traveller had learned that most mortals both feared and were in a state of awe of those who could use the mystic arts.

Over the course of his exploration, the Traveller had learned that kings and sometimes higher ranked nobles hired mages to be advisers. There were also a few magic users who set up shops, but when the Traveller tried to approach those advisors, he was promptly rejected as the court mages did not deal with the petty concerns with common and peasants. More than once he had been mistaken as a poor beggar and his reputation for granting wishes had a few mages mistaking for a Djinn or some kind of Trickster.

While flattered of course at first, he found the mages unwillingness to even entertain the idea that he was simply curious annoying. Even those who ran shops or were hermits in the woods refused to indulge him out of fear because they could tell he was not only powerful but also not Human.

It was this reason he had come to Vizma, he had herd that the court mage was more open to the and frequently saw to the needs of both the King of Termina, the nobles, and the lower class. Apparently, she cared for the well-being of the commoners and even went out of her way to offer magical aid, such as healing and helping with other small tasks. This reputation had earned the mage the respect of all the lower class and the ire of the higher class. 

The Traveller approached the castle grounds, he had to make himself visible to the guards and asked them politely if he could speak with the court mage. The guards were more than willing to escort him to the mages workshop, as they were very familiar with people requesting to see her.

Once outside the Mages workshop, the guards informed the Traveller that when he was ready to go to see the guard stationed at the end of the corridor to be escorted out. Once his escorts left The Traveller knocked on the door to announce his presence.

“Come in,” a female voice answered.

The Traveller opened the wooden door and entered the room. The only other person in the room had their back turned to him with her arms moving. He could feel the magical energy around her and he assumed she was in the middle of some kind of spell.

“I will be with you in just a few minutes. Please make yourself at home,” the woman said without turning around.

“Thank you,” the Traveller said in a smooth voice. He wandered around the room taking in all its details.

The workshop was quite large filled with different herbs and plants, some were hanging from the support beams in the ceiling, others were growing in pots on shelves and tables that sat against the wall. There was a work table cluttered with various apparatus and crystals. Along with papers scattered about and few vials of potions.

Along the walls, there were several bookcases and The Traveller examined some of the books, there were a few on plants, herbs, and flowers. A couple of bestiaries and one or two books on magical theory. A lot of the books however dealt with history and tactics of war, there were even a few books about generals and battle strategies used by other races and countries.

“My, my a mage who is interested in warfare…how unique,” The Traveller hummed. The Traveller was used to Magic users pursuing magic for academic purposes or even for their own personal gain. He found those that used it to conquer or plot to take over the world boring and unoriginal. He seriously hoped this mage would not be like that.

As he was looking over the books the female mage finished her task and picked up a two, she wiped her hands and turned to face her guest.

“Sorry about the wait what can I…” the mage started but trailed off as she saw who was standing there “You…” she gasped.

The Traveller grinned and placed the book he was flipping through back on the shelf. He turned to give her his full attention.

“It’s alright. I assume from your reaction that you have a herd of me,” The Traveller said.

“I have heard of you, from reports and the rumors,” the woman said carefully as she eyed the Traveller. “but you’re not a rogue Djinn are you?”

“I am a bit of a rouge, that much is true,” the Traveller agreed “But I am not a Djinn,”

“The people call you a trickster,”

“They are not wrong, in some ways that is what I am. What else do the people say about me?”

“They say you grant them miracles, wishes to those who trade with you. Your boons are a blessing to those that trade with you, yet a curse to those around them,”

“If this is about that one farmer and the pigs? Because I assure you, he had it coming,” The Traveller assured “he said that pigs had an increased gravitational field due to their size and weight and therefore it made them stronger and more durable,”

“What increased Gravity, they’re on the same bloody planet. There is not extra gravity,”

“I have no idea what Gravity is or why some farmer claiming his pigs had it would offend you,”

The Traveller picked up a book that was on the table, he held out next to him and it let go. It fell to the ground. “That’s gravity,”

“Gravity is you dropping a book?” The mage asked confused.

“No, Gravity is what pulls things towards the ground, without it we would all be floating endlessly,” The Traveller explained.

“As interesting as that concept is, I don’t see why this warranted you changing a farmer to look like a bipedal pigman creature and every time he spoke it came out as a sequel. He ran through the streets naked,”

“It was to prove his theory was wrong, and it only for an hour,” the Traveller defended “besides, I didn’t tell him to take his clothes off, he did that on his own,”

“He was chased by his whole village and he was nearly skewered by the Nilfgaardians,”

“I didn't know there was a Nilfgaardian patrol in the area,”

“Did you also know about the hunter who was staying in that particular village. The one who searching for a unique beast to slay and bring back as a trophy to show his fiancée as a way to prove he was worthy of her hand in marriage?”

“Okay, that one I knew about. But it was all in good fun, besides now the hunter has a story to tell his future wife and children,”

“A man was nearly skinned alive and turned into a hunting trophy by his village, a Nilfgaardian patrol and a hunter out to prove himself,” the Mage argued back “and you think that was all fun?”

“Yes,” The Traveller answer “plus he deserved it,”

The mage let out an irritated sigh and shook her head. “Because you have sought me out I suppose that means you wish to make one of your deals with me,”

“Hmm…you could say that,”

“Fine, however before we begin, I would know your name. I can’t just refer to you as Trickster or green cloaked figure,”

“You may call me The Traveller. But now I find myself at a great disadvantage, you have my name yet I have nothing to call you by,”

“I am Triss Marigold, Sorceress of the Brotherhood and Magical Advisor to King Foltest of Temeria,” Triss introduced.

“Very well Triss, however, do be aware that I do not offer something so petty as a deal. I am not a demon, no what I offer is…well lets just call it unique services for of information,”

Triss folded her arms and

“So, you are a demon then,”

“Oh no, I am so much more,” the Traveller smiled.

“And that would be?”

“Is that what you want? To know why I do what I do for the small price of a bit of gossip?” he asked.

“No, what I want is you to not harm a single hair of any citizen of Foltest,” Triss demanded “I want you to leave without causing any more trouble for this kingdom and those who live in it,”

“Very well I will leave immediately and not harm anyone in your kingdom…for a price,”

“You want information, that is why you’re here is isn’t it?”

“My you are so well informed. But for what your request…it would need to be rather specific information to ensure I leave immediately,”

Triss narrowed her eyes. “I will not give you anything that would destroy or bring harm to Temeria,”

“I don’t want state secrets or even military ones. What I want is to know about Magic,”

“That’s all?”

“For now,” The Travller shrugged.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you can give me. How it works, where it comes from, who can use it, and of course where one goes to master such a craft,” the Traveller listed “and depending on your answers I might have one or two other questions to add. but they would only be to clarify some things and be along the same line of questioning,”

Triss stared at the Traveller with a suspicious look. She thought it was odd that he was asking for information on magic. While Triss had no idea who the Traveller was she could tell that we was immensely powerful and could sense the chaos flowing around him, it was almost as if the natural magics of the world were drawn to him somehow.

That being the case Triss was very surprised that this powerful being would be asking for information on magic. Could it be he was unaware of the power that gathered around him or was it that he was looking for a way to control the chaos.

Given the reports she had read and the rumors surrounding the Traveller, Triss was sure it wasn’t either of those.

“Fine, what do you wish to know first?” Triss asked.

“I would like to understand Magic. It is neither here or there, I can feel it yet I find myself struggling to grasp it,” the Traveller claimed “while I enjoy a good challenge, I can’t help find it infuriating at the same time,”

“That is not surprising, magic or chaos as it is referred to by us mages is an uncontrollable force in the universe. No one can control it, not completely only direct it,” Triss smiled, this she could do.

He hadn’t asked for any secretes that would threaten Temeria or it’s people. From his question, it sounded like he was looking for a basic and introductory explanation to magic. Something that would be explained on the first day to new students of Aretuza.

“I see, so when you would cast a spell you are merely nudging this chaos in the direction you want it to go,”

“In a sense,”

“I see…interesting,”

“You find this interesting, it’s just the basics,” Triss was a bit surprised by this, but none the less happy that The Traveller seemed satisfied with her answer.

“My dear, I think you will learn that a basic understanding of magic is all that is needed to harness it,” the Traveller claimed. Triss could not argue on that point “Now onto my next question, is control over chaos limited to humans or could any race use it?”

Triss smiled, another simple and basic question with a common well-known answer.

“In times past the elves could use magic, in fact, we humans originally learned the mystic arts from elves. But they no longer have the ability to do so. Most magic users now days are humans,”

“That is a shame. I assumed anyone could do magic with the right mindset and dedication to the study of it,”

“Unfortunately, that is not the case, one must have the gift and awaken to the power before magic can be taught. We call that a moment of power,” Triss said.

The Traveller nodded, there were people like that in his world. Those who inherited the gift of magic through their bloodline, however Magic could also be taught if one had the right mindset for it.

“Interesting…tell me if one were to have this gift and awaken it. Where would those with gifted with magical talents go to master it?”

“Aretuza, it’s the only known magic school and guild on the continent. All mages go there to learn,”

“Hmm…during my travels, I learned that the larger cities have magical advisors like yourself. Tell me dose every city have a mage protecting it?”

“No, though many mages stand at the side of kings and queens as magical advisors. Some mages are hired to research by lords or even historians,”

“Fascinating, and how does one acquire such a position?”

“That is the Brotherhoods doing. All requests for mages go to the Council of the Wizards and then they assign a mage that is best suited for the job,”

“And how do they know who is best suited for which job?”

“It's all based on talent. The most powerful are sent to Kings and Queens across the continent,” Triss shrugged “After all you would not send a mage who could barely do a levitation spell to advise on a war council,”

“True, do all rulers have a mage at their side?”

“Most do, but some don’t. Those that don’t have a mage, the Brotherhood sends letters of recommendation to get a mage of their choosing into court. Cintra would be an example, they have never had a mage from the brotherhood serving them,”

“Why not?”

“From what I heard Cintra has a Druid serving as their magical advisor,” Triss answered “and before that Cintra was always reluctant to have any form of magical council of any kind,”

“A Druid you say?” The Traveller asked in surprise. However, the look of surprise quickly vanished and replaced with one of approval “Well lucky them. I can see why they would not wish to trade; Druids are fearsome and not ones to be taken lightly,”

“What are you talking about?” Triss asked confused “Mages are far more powerful than druids. More useful too,”

The look of surprise returned to the Traveller “Come again?” he asked. As if he had been told something that was untrue.

“I mean a mage can control all aspects of chaos, whereas Druids barely do anything with their magic. They tend to forests and injured animals. They are not suited at all for court life nor would they make good generals and they would be useless in battle,” Triss claimed “Sorceress and Wizards on the other hand, are much more powerful and better suited for the job,”

“I’m sorry but I am going to have to disagree with you on that,” the Traveller argued “Druids are highly capable and if I’m being honest more terrifying than simple mages. They can take on beast form, control all the elements, even the land, sea and sky are at their beck and call…they can even influence people through their dreams. I once saw a druid reshape a whole content by mere force of will alone,”

“Druids do not have that power, however, if you claim to know a Druid who dose, the council must be informed as such power can not be left unchecked to run wild,”

“They are…well not available at the moment and I doubt _that_ particular druid would apricate me visiting or your council telling her what she can and can’t do,” The Traveller responded awkwardly. “Moving on, another question if you don’t mind, how do track down mages who have just awakened to their power? Surly this brotherhood you mentioned did not keep tabs on every mage in the world,”

“There are no rouge mages, all are known to the brotherhood and all are kept under watch. Should a new mage awaken to the gift they are found and brought to the Aretuza,”

“And if they do not wish to go?”

“They have little choice, most who awaken their power are those in late childhood and the early stages of puberty. If they do not attend Aretuza then their power will destroy them and their surroundings,”

“Is that what your school tells young people who just awaken to their powers?”

“Yes, it is a fact and one that mages and their families must be aware of,” Triss agreed.

“Has anyone ever still refused to go to this magic school of yours once they have heard this fact?”

“No,”

“Mmm…funny about that,” the Traveller mused “And how are new mages found?”

Triss leaned forward slightly “Magic,” she responded.

The Traveller smiled. “Oh, I am really starting to like you,” he said.

Triss leaned back and smiled. She was initially worried about talking to the Travller but it wasn’t as bad as she had thought.

“I do hope you will forgive me, but I am to meet with the king soon. I hope I have lived up to my end of our agreement,” Triss said.

“You have my dear, you have. And this has been very informative, I believe I shall take my leave now,” the Traveller informed as he stood up.

“And our bargain?” Triss asked.

“Do not worry, I will honor your request,” The Traveller assured and he turned to leave.

“Wait,” Triss called out, stopping the Traveller at her door “Two question before you go. You’re not a Djinn yet you go around performing miracles like one. Why and What are you really?”

“I’ve already told you, I am the Traveller,” the Traveller answered “as for the why…well I am curious about this new world I stumbled upon,” he walked out of Triss’s workshop.

“New world?” Triss wondered. She didn’t understand after all it was only possible to travel between worlds during a Conjunction of the…suddenly her eyes widened in both realisation and fear.

“Wait, she called out and ran out of her office. However, the Traveller was already gone and no where to be seen. Triss ran down the hall to the two guards that were stationed there. They were there to not only guard her but also pass along messages to her and escort any who come to see her out of the castle.

As she ran up to them, the guards gave her an odd look.

“My lady, are you well?” one of the guards asked.

“Yes…did a man in a green cloak come pass you? He was just left my office,” Triss demanded.

The guard’s looked at her and then each other, confused.

“No, my lady. We saw the man you described being led to your office not long ago, but he has come by again. We assume he would still be consulting with you,” the guard responded.

“Should we search the castle?” the other offered.

“No…there would be no point,” Triss sighed “He’s likely gone already. Thank you for your help,” She turned and walked back towards her office.

The Traveller was walking through the streets of old Vizima, heading out of the city now that he had gotten what he came for. He would prefer to stay longer, but a deal was a deal. At least now he had some information on magic and he could now start to make his way to Aretuza to learn more.

“I should introduce Miss Marigold to Keylth sometime. Hmm…I wonder if I should stop by Whitestone next time, I’m in the area. Just to check up on some old friends,” the Traveller mused as he left the castle “although if I’m going to drop by, I should bring news of Vax…But I don’t think the Raven Queen would like me hanging around him again,”

As he was on the way out of town, the Traveller suddenly stopped and looked towards the sky.

“Hmm?” The Traveller “Oh looks like Jester just did something incredible in my name. I should probably go see her,”

And he vanished as if he was never there.

\----------

_Wildmount, The Leaky Tap Tavern, city of Zadash_

Jester headed to her room in the Leaky Tap Tavern, she was sharing a room with Beau. However, the monk was still downstairs drinking with the rest of the Mighty Nein. Earlier in the evening she and Nott had headed to the temple of the Platinum Dragon and not only defaced but also caused a massive uproar within the temple itself. Thankfully both she and Nott had been able to getaway.

When they reached the Leaky Tap, Nott had immediately headed to the bar and ordered four mugs off strong ale before sitting down with Fjord, Beau and Geralt; as Caleb and Caduceus had already headed up to their room. Fjord had mistakenly believed the goblin had bought them around. However, Nott quickly downed all four mugs, claiming that she needed it before ordering some more.

Beau was impressed and called to Jester to join them, but the blue Tiefling declined. She was tired from the night’s events, out of magic, exhausted and Jester really just wanted to go to bed. Once she was alone in her room, Jester leaned against the door, closed her eyes and let out a tired sigh.

She stayed like that for a moment, collecting her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, she gasped as a familiar green cloaked figure was sitting on her bed, elbow on his knee with his chin resting on his hand and a smile on his face.

“Good evening Jester,” the Traveller greeted “I hope I am not intruding,”

Jester took a hesitant step forward “Did…Did you see what I did?” she asked softly.

“I did, it was very impressive,” The Traveller agreed “and painting the Platinum Dragon rainbow colours…brilliant,”

“Does this mean you like me again?”

“Oh Jester, I never stopped liking you,” The Traveller assured.

“But…why didn’t you come when I needed you?” Jester demanded “Why did you leave me alone when those slavers had me and my friends?”

“I never left you, Jester, however, there are rules that even I must follow,” The Traveller explained. In truth, it hurt him more than he ever could have thought possible when Jester had been imprisoned and tortured by the Iron Shepards. The Traveller had heard her call out to him for help, help he could not give without breaking very fine and strict rules.

“Oh, okay,” Jester said understanding, completely accepting the Travellers response “Hey,” she said and clapped her hands together “did you know we got a new teammate? He fell from the sky,”

“I noticed; his name is Geralt correct?” The Traveller asked. Grateful that the subject was changed.

“You know him?” Jester gasped “Have you met him before? Does he worship you too? Did you convince him how awesome you are? Do you like him more than me?”

“Jester, you are and always be my favorite,” the Traveller claimed “as for Geralt…well, let's just say that we had a brief encounter before you met him. But I do not know him personally,”

“Oh alright, as long as you don’t like him more than me,”

“Trust me Jester, my meeting Geralt was extremely brief and only in passing,” the Traveller promised “Though, I do admit he interests me. Could you tell me a little about him?”

“Apparently he’s some big bad monster hunter,” Jester said in a fake tone “But I don’t think he’s mean at all,”

“A monster hunter you say?”

“Yeah, he says he’s a Witcher, which is weird right? I mean why would you name yourself after a witch if you weren’t one?”

“Did he happen to mention if there was more of him?”

“More Geralt's?”

“I mean are there other Witchers?” The Traveller clarified “or any thing about how he became a Witcher?”

“Um…well he said that withers were created and there used to be lots of them, so I suppose there could be more,” Jester remembered tapping her chin “though he hasn’t spoken much,”

“Interesting,” the Traveller said. He made a mental note to start asking about Witchers back in the other world.

“Hey did you know Geralt had never seen a Tiefling before? He thought Fjord, Duces and I were monsters,” Jester continued.

The Traveller nodded, he was not surprised, after all the only non-human races he had encountered in the other world were elves and Dwarves, he was sure there were monsters and other nasty creatures as he had seen bounties and other notices about them. He was also old enough to remember a time when Tieflings were constantly accused of being demons themselves, it had taken a lot to overcome the prejudices and closed view of this particular race. The same could be said for some other races, he knew half-elves still had difficulty finding acceptance in both Elven and human society in some places.

“Hey, you want to see something cool? We got a magic ball that lets us warp reality,” Jester exclaimed happily. That caught the Traveller s' attention, reality-altering artifacts were dangerous and often forbidden or protected by powerful other-dimensional beings so no one could use their power.

“Oh, did you now. May I see this reality-warping ball?” he asked.

“Sure, here you go,” Jester said. She picked up her back and skipped over and sat down next to the Traveller. Jester pulled the lead-lined box out of her pink haversack and opened it up. The Traveller leaned over and looked inside. His face was unreadable.

“Fascinating,”

“I know right,”

“Where did you happen across such an artifact?”

“We found it in the sewers,” Jester answered.

“The sewers?” the Traveller repeated in surprise “it's amazing what people will flush down their toilets these days,”

“Wellllll it wasn’t technically the sewers. We met a Dark Elf Assassin who was fleeing from a falling tower that he may or may not have exploded during a massive party. He was carrying this, he attacked us so we were all like Well now we have to kill you and then he was all like no please don’t kill me this orb makes babies so let him go and when we got out of the sewers we saw the local guards carrying his dead body and this orb so we were like…hey let's steal the orb and everyone was like okay. So we stole the orb and I put it in my pink bag and now we have a reality-warping orb that makes babies,”

“I…see…” the Traveller said as he tried to process what Jester had just told him.

“Yeah this thing is good luck, but Caleb says we have to keep it in the bag or some bad people will come and steal it back and then we won’t be able to make babies,” Jester continued “You remember me telling you about Caleb right? He’s the human who smells. I mean I know humans smell bad in general but he smells really really bad,”

Across the hall in the room that Caleb was sharing with Nott and Caduceus. The human wizard was sitting up in bed, reading a book when he suddenly sneezed unexpectedly. Both Caduceus and Nott looked up from what they were doing and looked over at him. Nott had come up a few minutes after Jester.

“Caleb, are you getting sick? Do you need Caduceus or Jester to look at you?” Nott asked worriedly.

“Nein, I’m fine. I don’t know vhere that came from,” Caleb claimed as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Perhaps someone was talking about you,” Caduceus offered.

“Doubtful, vho vould talk about me?” Caleb asked.

“Maybe you're coming down with something, it is getting colder. You need to remain warm, Caduceus quick, give him something to make him feel better or warm-up,”

“I’m not that kind of Cleric,” Caduceus claimed “but I can make you some tea if you like,”

“Nien thank you,” Caleb responded and went back to his book. Ignoring that Nott was fussing over him and trying to tuck him in.

Back in Jester's room.

“That is probably wise,” The Traveller agreed “you should keep that orb a secret and hidden. For you never know who may be searching for such and artifact,”

“Caleb says as long as it stays in the Lead box people won’t be able to find it, we only take it out briefly once a day to look at it,”

“Still be careful, I would hate for something bad to happen to you,”

“Aww you do care, I knew it,”

“Yes well…I should go now. Be well Jester and thank you for a delightful conversation,” The Traveller said and he vanished from sight.

Jester quickly put the Orb away and placed her bag at the end of her bed. She then took out her journal and lay down in bed holding her journal tightly close to her chest. She went to sleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning Jester bounded down the stairs with endless energy and over to the table where the rest of the Mighty Nein were eating breakfast. She skipped over to Geralt and hugged him. Geralt wasn’t expecting in and quickly shoved the blue Tiefling off.

“Geralt good news,” Jester said excitedly “The Traveller knows of you,”

“Alright,” Geralt responded. However, he immediately turned to the blue telling when he realised what she had said. “Wait...what?”

* * *

Dungeons and Dragons Fact: Bahamut the Platinum Dragoon is the god Dragon king and ruler of the Metallic Dragons (Bronze, Silver, Copper, Gold, Brass) his sister Tiamat The Dragon queen is the leader and ruler of the Chromatic Dragons (Red, Blue, Green, Black and White)

Tiamat and Bahamut had a falling out when Tiamat tried to take over the multiverse, viewing all other races other than Chromatic dragons. She has server disdain for mortals, regarding them as mere disposable tools in her schemes or food.

So, Jester painting the statue of Bahamut is a highly insulting act in itself, but she used the colours of Tiamat this made the insult even worse.


	7. The Haunted House Pt1

_**I own Nothing** _

_**Please leave a Comment Below** _

* * *

After spending two more days in Zadash the Mighty Nein decided it was time to leave the city and move on. Fjord had discovered that most mercenary work was now being allocated to those that were serving or working with the Army. Still not wanting to sign on to fight in the war, it was decided that the Nein would search for work outside of the empire. Jester had insisted on heading to the Menagerie coast to a city called Nicodranus, the city that Jester was originally from.

The blue Tiefling was eager to introduce the group to her mother. Fjord, Caleb, and Caduceus seemed indifferent to where the group went and Nott didn’t mind too much either. Beau didn’t care whether they stayed in the empire or not. Geralt didn’t bother providing input on the destination, mainly because he didn’t know anything about this new world, he was stuck in. He’d be fine as long as they found some work.

While Geralt didn’t mind which way the group headed, he had been both looking forward and dreading traveling leaving the Zadash. He had been looking forward to getting back out in the wild. But also dreading how the Mighty Nein would act on the road, after all, Geralt had only ever travelled with Jaskier and on rare occasions, other Witchers.

Geralt's experiences traveling with Jaskier weren’t bad per se. They were however taxing as Geralt not only had to match Jaskiers pace but also keep the bard safe and he was concerned traveling with the Mighty Nein would be the same as traveling with Jaskier.

After all, it was hard enough keeping just Jaskier out of danger, now there were six people he would have to protect. Thankfully his fears were unfounded…for the most part.

Geralt had to admit traveling by cart was more pleasant than he would have thought. Even with the groups' odd quirks, such as Caduceus talking to the horses and the local plants whenever they stopped. Nott acting like a mother hen to Caleb and Beau sewing at everyone they met and Fjord trying to teach Beau on why punching and threatening people was not the proper way to greet someone or make friends.

Not long after leaving Zadash, Nott had taken off her hood and mask; revealing her goblin form. Learning that Nott was a goblin was a bit of a surprise for Geralt, even more so was that the rest of the group were quick to defend her when the Witcher reflexively went for his silver sword.

During the late afternoon of the first day, the group stopped to set up camp for the night. There was a good hour left before sundown and Geralt decided to take the opportunity to do a bit of combat training. Since he had spent the last two days recovering, there wasn’t much of an opportunity to run through some basic swordplay patterns or practice his Witcher signs.

He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the group who were busy unloading the bedrolls and other camping gear from the cart. Geralt hadn't been asked to help and since the others were busy, he took the opportunity to slip away from them.

Geralt hadn’t gotten very far when his Witcher hearing picked up the sound of crushed leaves and grass being crumbled underfoot. The Witcher stopped and let out a sigh and turned to see who was following him, it was Caleb. The Wizard wasn’t even trying to hide his presence.

“You’re not very stealthy,” Geralt pointed out.

“I vasn’t trying to be,” Caleb claimed.

“Hmm…”

“Caduceus saw you leave. Vhere are you going?” the Wizard asked. Coming to a stop not five feet from Geralt.

“For a walk,” Geralt responded.

“and did vou plan on coming back from said walk?”

Geralt shook his head and looked off towards the horizon. “You don’t trust easily do you?” he asked.

“No,” Caleb responded flatly and crossed his arms “if you vish to leave might I suggest sneaking avay in the middle of the night. It vorks vonders for Yasha,”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak away, I just wanted to do a bit of training,” Geralt claimed.

“Then I shall accompany you,” Caleb said and started walking again. Geralt didn’t say anything as the Wizard strode past him “Safety in numbers after all,”

Geralt let out another sigh and followed Caleb. All he wanted to do was a bit of combat training.

While Geralt was confident his skills with the blade would not have dwindled in the last few days, he was very concerned about whether or not he could still use his Witcher signs in this new world. If he couldn’t he would like to know so as he would not leave himself open in combat should the need for a sign arise.

After walking for another fifteen minutes the two stopped and Geralt began to go through a familiar routine with his steel longsword. It was the same Routine that Vesimer had drilled into him to do if he was on the road and didn’t fight anything for more than three days. Since Geralt was stuck in an unfamiliar world, going through a familiar sword routine helped keep himself grounded.

Caleb found a rock to perch on and pulled out a book from his harness and started to read. Frumpkin hopped off Calebs' neck and lay on his lap. Not paying particular attention to Geralt or his training. Every now and then Caleb would stroke Frumpkins fur or give the cat a scratch behind the ears. The cat responded by nuzzling its wizards' hand and purring happily.

After finishing his sword training Geralt felt a little better, he focused his Witcher Senses on his surroundings looking to see if there was anyone else nearby. When he was satisfied, he was relatively alone, he glanced over at Caleb, but the other man was too engrossed in his book. Geralt sheathed his sword and unleashed a weak burst of Arrd across the field.

Calebs head immediately snapped up, sensing the arcane energy. He snapped his book shut and jumped off his rock. He began frantically looking around for an unseen enemy with a frightened look on his face. Geralt raised an eyebrow at this, wondering what had set the wizard off.

“You always this jumpy?” Geralt asked.

Caleb snapped up and looked towards Geralt with fear and apprehension all over his face. the wizards' demeanour did not change and he eyed how calm Geralt was as his mind raced to figure out where that burst of Arcane energy had come from. The Witcher eyed Frumpkin and the cat seemed to be doing it’s best to comfort Caleb and try to gain his attention but it wasn’t working.

“Y…Yes…I…I think we’re in danger,” He responded fearfully “I sensed a burst of magic…there could be…someone nearby,”

“There's not, that was me,” Geralt admitted. He felt a bit bad; he didn’t know that Caleb would react that way to him practicing his signs.

“Vait…that vas you?”

Geralt nodded. “Arrd is a Witcher sign,” he responded casually.

“Witcher sign?” Caleb asked confused. his tense shoulders seemed to relax knowing that it was not an unseen enemy or he had been discovered, but Geralt who had cast the spell.

“Witchers fight monsters, we know some basic forms of magic to help us,” Geralt explained “Not very powerful but easy to use in combat,”

“Interesting. Do you mind showing me and valking me through your signs?”

Geralt was a bit taken back by this. No one took an interest in Signs, mages could do more powerful and effective spells while regular people tended to think they were proof that Witchers weren’t any better than monsters.

Geralt shrugged, it’s not like he could stop Caleb from watching. “Do what you want,” he responded in a gruffly. He turned away from Caleb and continued to practice. First, he let out a slightly more powerful version of Arrd; satisfied he moved on to Igni by focusing it on a stick to make it catch fire before snuffing the small flame out with his hand. Geralt made a mental note to try a larger burst of Igni should he find a safe place to do so.

Next Geralt wanted to try Axii, but he needed someone to use it on, since Axii affected the minds of others. He turned back to Caleb.

“Do you mind if I….” Geralt stared but stopped, only to find the dirty human didn’t respond. He was just stood there with a blank expression on his face, dazed as if lost in a trance.

“Hey, you okay?” Geralt asked.

Caleb didn’t respond or give any indication that he heard Geralt. “Wake up,” Geralt commanded and he made the sign for Axii. Directing the spell at Caleb, Geralt felt the spell wash over the other man but nothing changed.

“Hmm…” the Witcher hummed. He knew he cast the sign correctly but it didn’t have any effect, this meant that either Caleb was fighting it, however, given the other humans' trance-like state Geralt seriously doubted it. The other solution was whatever had sent Caleb into this state was very powerful or his mind was too strong for such simple magics.

At least Geralt knew Axii worked now, he reached out and grabbed Calebs' arm. “Hey,” He said with a bit more force and giving the wizard a bit of a shake.

This seemed to work as whatever trance Caleb was in, he snapped out off. “Huh? Did you say something?” Caleb asked.

“You alright?” Geralt asked. Letting go of the wizards' arm.

“I’m fine,” Caleb assured.

“So, you normally space out staring at the fire?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Caleb snapped.

“Hmm…” Geralt responded before turning away from the wizard. He started to cast Quin but nothing happened. Geralts frowned and he tried again but no shield appeared. Finally, he tried Yarden but like Quin, no magic signal appeared on the ground.

Geralt grunted and continued to cast Quin and Yarden but nothing happened and after the tenth try he gave up. “Fuck,” he swore.

“Vhat is vrong?” Caleb asked.

“I can’t get Quin or Yarden to Work,”

“and what is that,”

“Igni is a burst of flame, Quen is a Shield, Axii is manipulating minds, Arrd is a burst of force and Yarden is a magical barrier,” Geralt explained. Listing off his Witcher signs and what they did.

Caleb mentally went through what he had seen.

“Vhat about Axii?” Caleb asked, “How do you know that vorks?”

“I tried it on you and…”

“Vou did Vhat?!!” Caleb panicked, taking a few steps away from the Witcher, hurt, and Betyral written all over his face “Vhen…Shizia Vhat did you do to me?”

Geralt let out a frustrated groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. What was with this Caleb? First, he has a near panic attack when from a simple spell. Then he stars at the fire and now he was on the verge of a second panic attack because Geralt had tried to help him.

“I tried to bring you out of your trance with Axii,” Geralt assured “But it did not affect,”

“That’s it?” Caleb asked, “vou didn’t try to force me to do anything else?”

“Axii can’t do much other than someone down. Occasionally I can use it to make people think things,” 

“Vhat type of things?” Caleb demanded.

“Simple things like…” Geralt thought for a moment, trying to come up with a good example “like starting a fight with me isn’t worth it or I can use it to convince them to be more truthful with me,”

Caleb eyed Geralt wearily, he did not like that Geralt had used a mind manipulation spell in him, even worse was that Caleb didn’t know it had been done.

“Can it…can it alter or change a person's memory?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, it’s nowhere near powerful enough for that,” Geralt claimed “Only the strongest of mages would be able to do that. Besides memory alteration isn’t something mages in my world do. Any mage who would change a person memory would only do so under the most extreme circumstances and under very strict supervision,”

This seemed to satisfy Caleb enough that he calmed down.

“I see…Vich signs do you find most useful and use the most?” Caleb asked changing the subject.

“Arrd, Igni and Quen,” Geralt answered “Although Axii has gotten me out of trouble more times than I can count,”

“And Yarden?”

“That’s more situational, I mainly use it when fighting sprits or wraiths. Once in Yarden circle, they become physical and my weapons can hurt them,”

Caleb nodded and thought for a moment. He tried to think of a reason why only three of Geralts spells were working. Caleb would have asked about spell components, but he hadn't seen Geralt use anything to cast Igni or Arrd. So he assumed he didn’t need anything to cast Quin or Yarden.

“Perhaps…perhaps they can only work under certain situations,” Caleb suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“These Witcher signs you use, there are many spells in Exandria with similar effects. Your Quin sounds similar to spell called shield,” Caleb explained “However shield can only be used as a reaction,”

“A reaction to what?” Geralt asked.

“Attack me,” Caleb instructed and he moved away from Geralt and spread out his arms.

“I’m not going to attack you,” Geralt responded.

“You won’t hit me,” Caleb assured “However I cannot demonstrate what you mean if you don’t try to strike me,”

Geralt sighed, he drew his Steel Sword and charged at Caleb, using the back of his blade so he would not seriously injure the man. However, before his blade could make contact, Caleb raised his hand a magical barrier formed in front of him. Geralts blade hit the forcefield and he struggled against it. He could hear his sword straining against it and after a moment he pulled back and stepped away from Caleb.

Staring at him in both shock and surprise.

“You’re a mage,” Geralt whispered in surprise. Caleb nodded, this explained why he was interested in Witcher signs and why he was the only one to know about the different planes.

“I am,” Caleb agreed “though vee use the term is Wizard here,”

“But I thought…” Geralt started, then realised something. If Caleb was a mage, why did only Jester and Caduceus heal him “why didn’t you help heal me?” he demanded.

“Vhat do you mean?”

“You’re a mage, you should be able to heal,”

“The power to heal is not something that can be taught, it is given,” Caleb explained “Students of the arcane like myself do not possess such powers. That is vhy vee hafe Caduceus and Jester on the team,”

“What do mean the power to heal is given?”

“It is a gift given by either the gods or Nature itself. Can vizards in your world heal?”

“Yes,”

“Yet another difference between us,” Caleb sighed as he shook his head “As useful as that sounds that is not the case here…although I have heard of some musician being able to heal through the power of music,”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at that.

“Is everyone in this group a mage?” Geralt asked.

“No, only I specialize in the arcane,” Caleb answered.

“But Jester and Caduceus healed me with magic,” Geralt insisted “doesn’t that mean they are mages?”

“Ah, I see the confusion. Let me clarify, there are different classifications for different types and uses of magic,” Caleb explained “and where the magic is sourced,”

“Meaning?”

“All magic can be broken into two groups, Arcane and Divine,” Caleb started “Arcane Magic is that which can be taught, anyone can learn and study the Arcane. Divine is magic on the other hand that is given or comes from an outside source,”

Geralt nodded in understanding. “Can you be more specific about Divine magic?” he asked.

“The most common would be worshiping gods, although claimed her power came directly from Nature itself,”

“Gods don’t just give out power,” Geralt claimed “there has to be a catch,”

“I am not too sure how it works…but my understating is that gods give power to those who devoutly follow them,”

“Really, that’s it? No ritual sacrifice or dark ceremonies that involve sinister deeds?”

“Caduceuses family has worshiped the Wild mother for generations, and jester seems hell-bent on spreading The Travelers name. The power they wield are no simple party tricks. Do the gods you worship not grant boons or power to their followers?”

“No, they don’t,” Geralt stated “All magic on my world is taught and only those born with the ability to use it can. Witchers are the exception to that rule due to our mutations,”

“Interesting…Its no wonder our power came as a surprise to you,”

“Then I will re-phrase my question. Does everyone in the group have magic?” Geralt asked.

“Ja. The only one in our group who cannot use magic is Beau,” Caleb claimed “Though that is not to say she is vithout skill,”

“Fuck,” Geralt swore. Of course, he had to get himself indebted to a group of mages.

“Let me break down our group for you. Jester and Caduceus healing abilities and their power comes from the gods that they worship. So, they have Divine Magic. My magic, however, is Arcane and comes from years of Study, I am currently teaching Nott some Magic so hers would be of Arcane nature as well,” Caleb explained “and Fjord…we’re not sure where his comes from,”

“Why not?”

“I do not believe he worships or favours one particular god nor did he study. He said one day he just woke up with his powers,” Caleb finished. He then noted how annoyed Geralt seemed to be with this information “I take it you don’t like magic users?”

“Not really, they tend to always have an agenda of their own and don’t care for the masses or who gets hurt in pursuit of that agenda,”

Caleb looked down with a guilty expression “So there are somethings that our worlds have in common after all,” he said sadly, before turning away heading back towards the camp.

Geralt watched him go, once the Wizard was out of sight, he let out a sigh and ran his hand over his face. He just had to go and insult the people who not only he now worked for but would also most likely help him; this is why he didn’t travel with compony.

People were annoying, complicated, and easy to offend. Withers weren’t made to be social or aware of how others may have felt; Jaskier was the exception to this rule as even after close to a decade of travel, he couldn’t figure out how to get rid of the bard.

They were made to be killers, outcasts. Emotions and feelings along with understanding them weren’t necessary and unneeded. The mutations and trails saw to that problem by dulling them to the point of near unfeeling. Deciding he had enough practice for the day, Geralt followed Caleb and headed back to camp.

It was easy enough for Geralt to catch up to Caleb, walking behind the Wizard at a distance, but still keeping him in his sight. Despite making it obvious that Geralt was following the Wizard, Caleb never once turned to look back at him, however, his cat at him, never once taking its eyes off the Witcher.

Once they reached the camp the other seemed to have finished setting up and Nott ran over to Caleb as he and Geralt approached.

“Caleb are you alright? What happened? Did he hurt you?” Nott panicked “I’ll kill him,” the goblin pulled out her crossbow and before she could point it at Geralt, Caleb bent down and picked her up and walked towards the other side of camp.

“Nien, that von’t be necessary,” Caleb said as he carried the goblin away from Geralt. However Nott glared at Geralt, she used two of her goblin fingers to point to her eyes and then pointed them back at Geralt in a I’m watching you gesture.

Geralt was not intimidated at all, however, he found it odd that the goblin was overly concerned with the welfare of a human. Geralt moved over next to the monk “Is that…normal?” he asked and pointed at Caleb and Nott.

“Yeah, Notts a tad overprotective when it comes to Caleb. Just keep your back to a wall and you’ll be fine,” Beau advised.

“Hm,” Geralt turned his attention back to the goblin who seemed to be scolding Caleb for wandering off like a child.

“Caleb you can’t wander off from the group like that. Especially alone,” Nott scolded.

“But I wasn’t alone,” Caleb responded.

“You were, you wandered away from Camp with no one,”

“I vas vith Geralt and I had Frumpkin,”

“What if something attacked you?” Nott cried out “What if Geralt attacked you?”

“I have my magic and my glove. Besides, I would not have stayed for the fight and if I couldn’t get away, I would have sent Frumpkin to get you,” Caleb assured.

“I know Frumpkin is a clever cat and all, but what if Geralt or your attackers killed Frumpkin before he could warn us?” Nott asked.

“then they vould not be still standing,” Caleb answered darkly.

Geralt didn’t like that implication, he tuned out the rest of the conversation.

The next morning Fjord announced that they were close to the border of the empire, along the way they stopped at a small country town of Trostenwald and Geralt learned how the group was formed.

“So, you went to see a circus and one of its members was turning the audience into undead?” Geralt asked sceptically.

“Yeah it was the giant toad monster,” Jester nodded “I mean the rest of the show was pretty cool, but that was the highlight,”

“It wasn’t all bad, it’s how we met Yasha and Molly…oh,” Beau stopped and looked down sadly “Do you think Gustav is still in town?”

“He should be, why?” Fjord asked.

“Who is Gustuv?” Caduceus asked.

“He was the ring leader of the circus Molly and Yasha were part of,” Nott answered “He took all the blame for the deaths caused by the giant demon toad so the rest of the circus wouldn’t be charged with murder,”

“Yeah, I was just thinking…since he was close to Molly. He should know what happened to him,” Beau claimed.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Caleb agreed “He may be able to pass along a message to the other members of the circus as well,”

“I assume the circus broke up after the giant toad was killed?” Geralt asked as they walked through town.

“It did, we took Molly and Yasha with us. Molly liked traveling and Yasha didn’t have anywhere to go,” Jester explained

“Oh,” Jester suddenly realised something “That’s right, you haven’t met Yasha yet. She’s another of our group but after Mollys' death she went off on her own for a bit. I think she needed some time to grieve and come to terms with what happened. I send her messages now and then letting her know where we’re going so she can meet up with us when she's ready,”

“Hm,” Geralt nodded. Jester was a very sweet and caring girl.

Geralt chose not to accompany the rest of the Mighty Nein to see Gustav, he didn’t know Molly or Yasha and since this was a deeply personal matter he did not wish to intrude. Instead, he elected to remain in the waiting area of the law masters office. A few guards looked over at him once or twice, but it wasn’t the suspicious looks he was used too.

When the group came out of the cell area Geralt left with them and they headed to the tavern for a drink with a newly freed Gustav. Apparently, the group had paid out the remainder of his debt to the town. Gustav told the Nien how he and the circus had found Molly and a few stories about the Tiefling from his time at the circus. As he listened to the stories Geralt was glad Jaskier would never meet Molly, he got the feeling the two would get along and cause a lot of problems.

“Where’s Yasha?” Gustav finally asked, “Didn’t she go with you and Molly?”

“Oh…shes…uh…Yasha-ing,” Jester answered awkwardly.

“Ah, fair enough,” Gustav accepted “Tell her that I hope she’s doing well when she comes back,”

Geralt had no idea what Yasha-ing was or meant.

The next Moring Gustav informed the Nien that he had one or two things left to take care of in Trostenwald before he would set off again. He thanked the Mighty Nein for taking care of both Molly and Yasha before the group headed back out on the road.

As they reached the borders of the empire, The Mighty Nein had to submit themselves to a search, to make sure that they were not smuggling goods across the border. Thankfully other than a few necessary supplies their cart was empty. Though the illusion on the outside did throw the guards off a bit; but they were allowed to pass through.

After passing inspection and leaving the empire Caduceus spotted an odd rock formation not far off the road and they went to investigate it. Turns out there was nothing special about the formation and after examining it thoroughly Nott found a bag filled with gemstones. Concluding that this was likely some kind of drop off point for thieves the Mighty Nein took the gemstones for themselves.

Jester put pebbles and rock in the bag and placed it back into the hiding spot before they continued on their way. Late in the afternoon Caduceus felt a bit of a pain in his side and a tingle on his left knee. He looked up to see some dark clouds forming in the sky above. He frowned.

“Storms coming,” Caduceus shouted back at those in the wagon “Feels close, we should find some shelter,”

“How far are we from Nicodranus?” Beau asked.

“Still more than 3 days,” Fjord answered.

“Are there any towns or villages nearby we could take shelter?” Geralt asked.

“Not without going back into the empire. Nicodranus is the closest,” Jester answered “It’s because they're both big trading cities and Nicodranus isn’t that far from the empire,”

“Then vee should find somewhere that at least vill be dry,” Caleb suggested.

The Mighty Nein continued along the road, looking out for anything that could be used as a shelter. But they were running out of time as the air became more and more humid and the rumbling of thunder could be heard overhead.

“There,” Nott yelled and pointed to a small mound with an opening “Looks like a house of some kind,”

The group turned their attention to the house and Caduceus maneuvered the horses towards it. As the Nein got closer the house was revealed to be a very old rundown and decrypted Manor. The white paint had long faded and only a few flaky scraps remained, the front door was hanging open, of its frame several windows were broken. The garden was dead and overgrown with weeds and other plants.

Clearly, this manner had been abandoned for a long time.

Upon seeing it, Fjords face immediately paled “Um…can we not stay here,” he requested.

“Why?” Beau asked.

“Well…uh…the horses,” Fjord answered.

“What about them?” Caduceus asked. Turning around to look at the Half-Orc.

“Um, there might not be somewhere for them to be sheltered from the storm,”

Jester hopped down from the cart and walked over to the house looking at it carefully.

“Jessie, stop. It could be dangerous,” Fjord warned “In fact it is dangerous, let's just keep going,”

Jester ignored Fjord and walked around the side of the Manor. The rest of the group gave Fjord a strange look, it was not like him to want to pass up shelter from bad weather.

“Fjord, are you alright?” Nott asked “You look a little green,”

“I’m fine and I’m always green,” Fjord shot back.

“I mean greener than normal,” the rouge clarified.

“He’s right, you are a bit pale,” Beau agreed.

“I’m fine,” he snapped again “Just worried about the horses is all,”

Caduceus gave him an odd look and then looked back at the house. He nodded and gave Fjord a knowing look but didn’t say anything.

“There's a large stable round the back,” Jester called out, as she came back to the cart “It looks like it will withstand the storm too,”

“Looks like there's no need to move on then,” Geralt commented.

“But the horses might not like being in an old stable during a storm,” Fjord tried desperately.

“Good point, I’ll ask them,” Caduceus agreed. He got off the cart and walked around to the front of the horses. “Hey guys, we’re trying to avoid the storm. Would mind taking shelter in an old stable, I doubt it will be comfortable but it would be dry,”

The horses huffed in response.

“They're fine with it,” Caduceus announced looking up at Fjord.

Another Neigh brought the firblogs attention back to the horses.

“Oh really, that’s nice. I did not know that,” he said. Another huff from the horse “You don’t say, do tell me if you see any interesting variety,”

“What are they saying?” Jester asked as she walked over and stood next to Caduceus.

“Mamma Mia was just saying that she liked old rundown places,” Caduceus explained “apparently she likes the atmosphere,”

“Waterloo also said that older stables sometimes have unique species of moss and mushrooms,” Caduceus finished “This is great, it’s so nice having horses who share your interests,”

Fjord groaned. Of course, the horses would be against him too. Just as he thought that drops began to fall from the sky. The group looked up.

“Well, too late to find any other shelter,” Beau commented and started walking towards the Manor “everyone into the haunted mansion,”

“Please don’t call it that,” Fjord muttered under his breath, but followed her.

The group headed into the mansion, it was dark and musty. Only Caduceus didn’t come as he was getting the horses set up in the Stable. Caleb conjured four small globes of light to allow himself and Beau to see in the dark.

The interior of the house was old and dusty, the wood cracked beneath the collective weight of the group, there was no light inside apart from the small globes that Caleb had conjured. Torn banners and tapestries hung from the wall. Overturned small tables and broken shards of glass littered the entryway.

Lightning flashed, and briefly lit up the Erie house. Looking around the interior Fjord took a big gulp as if to swallow his fears.

As soon as they entered Geralts Medallion started to vibrate violently. The Witcher looked down at it and his hand instinctively went for the hilt of the sliver’s sword. Since meeting the Mighty Nein, his medallion hadn’t stopped vibrating, though when around the group.

This was likely due to the different species in the group and the fact all but Beau held magical abilities.

“Medallions vibrating,” Geralt informed the group softly as he drew his silver sword. His yellow eyes critically scanning the entryway. 

The group got on edge; they knew what Geralt's medallion did. Thanks to Caleb's spell and Geralt had also informed them of its function.

Geralt stepped to the front of the group and stood next to Jester and Beau. Caleb and Nott took a few steps back so they were outside under the ruined porch with Nott's claws holding onto Caleb's coat with a death grip. Fjord stood behind Geralt, his hand twitching and his eyes darting around the entryway. Ready to summon the Falchion at the first sign of trouble.

“Lets…uh… let's stay near the door,” Fjord suggested weakly. Doing his best to not show fear.

The group slowly and carefully made their way into the main foyer, there was an archway off to the side. The archway had evidence that there was once a very large and probably nice Double door sat there, but the door no longer existed.

The room was a large sitting room, there were some single chairs and long couches. Across the far wall was an extremely large bookcase, however, there were no books in it. A small desk sat near a window that still held it’s full-frame and unbroken glass. An empty fireplace sat in the room beneath a mirror, miraculously the mirror remained unbroken. It like the rest of the furniture was covered in dust.

Beau marched into the room and picked up one of the downed side tables that was already missing a leg. She picked it up and smashed it on the ground.

“Vhat vas that for?” Caleb asked. Feeling a little more confidant now that someone else had gone into the room first and had not been harmed.

“Firewood,” Beau responded and gestured to the fireplace with her head.

“Are vou sure vou just didn’t want to break something nice?”

“Oh no I wanted to do that too,” Beau confirmed with a smile. She then picked up another table and broke that one as well before moving towards the bookshelf. Once she had a nice pile of wood, she and Jester dumped some of it into the fireplace.

Caleb flicked his wrist and a small flame appeared in his hand, he threw it into the wood and it caught alight. The group moved closer to the fire place while Caleb got out a thin sliver thread and put it around the group. Geralt watched him work with interest.

While the wizard worked Caduceus came in soaking wet, from putting the horses in the stable.

“This is great, you got a fire going,” he said with a smile.

“Cad, your soaking wet,” Beau said.

“Yeah, it’s raining pretty heavily out there,” Caduceus agreed as he walked towards the group.

“Come sit and get warm,” Jester insisted.

“How are the horse’s?” Geralt asked.

“Oh, there fine, turns out they like heavy rain,” Caduceus claimed as he set himself down close to the fire to dry and warm up.

“Hm,”

“This place is really cool, you guys,” Jester suddenly spoke up.

“Its an abandoned mansion,” Nott pointed out.

“I know, do you think there are ghosts or maybe someone was murdered here?” the blue tifiling responded with an exited sequel. Fjords face went paler at the mention of murder and ghost.

“If there was I bet we could solve it,” Nott declared. she then leaned in closer to Jester “I bet the Butler did it,”

“Why do you think that?” Beau asked with a tilt of her head.

“Because the Butler always dose it,”

“Wouldn’t he be the first suspect?”

“No one ever suspects the Butler,” Nott insisted.

“But a Butler knows everything that happens in a household,” Beau pointed out.

“Really?” Caduceus asked.

“Yeah, they know all the family secrets. Like any affairs or illegal business that go on. Hell, if a butler has been around long enough they probably have dirt on their masters' parents or even grandparents,” Beau explained.

“How vould a Butler know all this?” Caleb asked, “aren’t they servants?”

“Yeah, but part of the Butler's role is to report everything…and I mean everything to the master of the house. They’re also present for business meetings and other shit. Not to mention know all the hidden and secret places in the house,” Beau finished. “There just snitches in a fancy suit,” she added with a snort.

“Oh, I was so sure it would be the butler,” Nott said disheartened.

“Well it could easily be one of the house staff, just probably not the butler,” Beau shrugged

“You think servants would kill their employers?” Geralt asked.

“Maybe, I mean there are a lot of shitty nobles out there and who pays attention to the servants, it wouldn’t take much for them to kill someone,”

“What do you mean?” Jester asked.

“Well, the servants are the ones preparing the food and drink for the masters of the house, right? A little bit of poison in the wine would be easy for a servant to do,”

“And anyone looking into the murder would only question the family or the butler,” Geralt finished.

“Exactly,” Beau said.

“Can we please not talk about murdering people,” Fjord requested. He had become extremely pale and very nervous throughout the conversation. Caduceus looked him over with his knowing eyes.

“Fjord are you alright?” He asked.

“Fine…just… let's just drop the subject,” He begged.

They sat in front of the fire and jester and Nott started a conversation on something else, Beau occasionally put her opinion in. Caduceus and Geralt remained quiet, only speaking up once or twice, while Caleb temporarily got up to examine what was left of the books on the shelves, in hopes of finding something decent.

About an hour past and the group drifted off to sleep. Nott curled up next to Caleb; using the wizard's lap as a pillow. Beau lay on one of the overly dusty chairs and started snoring loudly, Caduceus was content to nod off while sitting where he was.

Despite Geralt's protests, Jester had somehow managed to convince the Witcher to let her use his lap as a pillow. Before the Witcher attempted to get some meditation done. Caleb was awake and staring at the fire, calmly stroking Frumpkins soft fur with his other hand on Notts gently rested on Notts head; his fingers lightly twirling the goblins hair. The cat purred happily at the attention.

Fjord on the other hand, however, could not sleep at all. The sound of lighting and thunder from outside kept him and every time it flashed, he would whip around scanning every shadow, looking for evidence that they were disturbed.

Once the rest of the group had drifted off to sleep, he summoned the Falchion. Because there was no way he would fall asleep in a creepy old abandoned mansion, in the middle of a bad storm after a discussion on murdering the occupants. Nope, none.

Every little creak of wood, the wisps in the air, the sound of old window shutters, and doors being slammed by the heavy wind. Every sound set the Half-Orc on edge, he wanted to run away from this horrible place and never come back. But he couldn’t, to leave now in such a violent storm would be extremely dangerous. Fjord should have asked Caleb to put his bubble up.

Sighing and trying to calm himself down, he lay down, Falchion in hand he tried to get some sleep. Just as the Warlock was drifting off a loud bang sound came from further in the house, followed by shattering of something.

Fjord immediately snapped his eyes back open and held the Falchion out at the ready. Listening for anything else. For a moment he could only hear the sounds of the storm and then he heard it, the sound of a low moan filled his ears.

Fjord scooted back a bit and waved his hand around until it landed on Geralt’s shoulder, the closest person to him. Geralt's eyes snapped open at the touch and he looked up at Fjord.

“Geralt…there’s something in the house with us,” Fjord whispered in a panic voice. It was barely audible and the Witcher only heard him thanks to his enhanced senses.

“So, go check,” the Witcher responded gruffly. Annoyed that his mediation had been interrupted.

“A…Alone?” Fjord responded. He looked at Geralt with pure terror on his face, the thought of going alone to investigate was far too much for the Half-Orc to handle “Aren’t…aren’t you a monster hunter though?”

Geralt let out a low groan, and gestured to one of the chairs in the room “Pass me a cushion,” he instructed. Fjord did as he was instructed and Geralt carefully stood up, doing his best not wake Jeter and lowered the Jesters head onto a dusty old cushion.

“Fine, I’ll come with you,” he sighed. Geralt walked over to the pile of wood, he picked up a table leg and then wandered over to the broken window and ripped part of the curtain off. He wrapped it around the top of the leg before casting Igni to make a torch “Let's just get this over with,” he grunted.

Fjord and Geralt walked through the halls of the manor, so far, they had not to herd any more shattering noises or anything that would indicate they were not the only ones taking shelter from the storm.

“There is nothing here,” Geralt stated after a good twenty minutes.

“But I heard something,” Fjord claimed.

“Yeah, the storm,”

“No, it was a banging sound, followed by a something shattering,”

“A shutter being banged against a window and breaking due to the wind,”

“But your Medallion hasn’t stopped vibrating,”

“It’s been vibrating non-stop since I met your group,” Geralt defended “You and the others set it off,”

“But it only got worse when we entered the house right? So that means there's something here,”

“Just because it’s vibrating doesn’t mean there is a monster nearby,” Geralt claimed “Maybe this house is cursed or on top of a point of power,”

“I knew it, this house is haunted,” Fjord declared “Let's get the others and get out of here before the ghosts of the murdered family show up and take control over our bodies,”

“That’s not…ugh,” Geralt groaned. “Look Wraiths are violent and very dangerous, but they only go after those who wronged them. If there were any here, they would have made themselves known by now. None of us have been disturbed so we can rule out haunting,”

“You sure?”

“Yes,”

Fjord let out a long sigh and nodded. “Okay, sorry,” he apologized “Places like this really freak me out. Lets… let's go back to the others,”

“I’m not a big fan of them either,” Geralt agreed as he glanced around the dark hall “your right to be scared,”

“I’m not scared,” Fjord snapped back. As soon as he said that a large gust of wind flowed through the hallway and makeshift torch that Geralt had made flickered out.

“GGAAAA!!! GGGHHAAAAAA!!!! GGGGGGGHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!”

When the fire flicked back on, he was in Geralt's arms, arms around his neck, eyes closed and shaking in fear. The Witcher was holding him bridal style and giving the Half-Orc a very strange look.

After a few seconds, Fjord peeked open one eye and realized exactly how the Witcher was holding him. “Uh….” Fjord said, his face was bright red from embarrassment. Geralt opened his arms and dropped Fjord; the Half-Orc fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Did you just scream like a little girl?” the Witcher asked as Fjord picked himself up.

“No,” the Half-Orc defended. Geralt continued to give Fjord the same look “maybe,” Fjord added still embarrassed “can we…can we pretend that never happened,”

“Hmm,”

“Is that a Yes Hmm or a No Hmm?” the warlock asked “because it’s hard to tell,”

“Hm,” Geralt responded and started to walk away. Fjord let out a low groan, he was never going to live this down.

Fjord followed Geralt back through the old and creaky hallways, still a little red-faced from embarrassment. Towards the end of the hall the sound of a loud crash echoed throughout the house and Fjord jumped in fear. Summing the Falchion to his hand and looked around fearfully. Geralt also stopped, however instead of panicking he reached over his shoulder and placed a hand on his silver sword.

A soft creaking sound was only barely heard over the rain and thunder and both men turned to look behind them. Lighting flashed revealing a dark shadowy figure.

“What was that?” Fjord asked. His voice barely a whimper. Lighting flashed again and the shadowy figure got closer, with each bolt of lighting the figure got closer and closer.

On the fifth flash, the dark figure was right in front of them and with a large dark blade raised. “Shit,” Geralt swore and he and Fjord barely had time to evade as the heavy blade slammed down splintering the old wooden floor and separating both Fjord and Geralt. The hulking dark figure let out a loud enraged cry and charged at Geralt as he dived into an old abandoned room.

Geralt sprang up and drew his silver sword, he wished he had a Cat’s Eye potion he could drink. However, he didn’t have time to ponder that as the dark figure followed him into the room, Geralt brought up his sword to defend against the incoming strike. It was so powerful, that Geralt felt his knees and strength being pushed to their limits; however, he was able to stave off the blow.

He couldn’t see if the figure was surprised or not and he didn’t practically care. What he did care about was Fjord; however, Geralt didn’t hear any other sounds of fighting so he had to assume that his attacker was alone; either that or Fjord had fainted from fright.

Geralt and his attacker continued to fight, it was a deadly dance illuminated by bolts and flashes of lighting. As if the storm itself was encouraging the fight. Geralt landed more than a few blows, however, and even stabbed the shadowy figure in the side, however, the hulking warrior didn’t go down. Quite the opposite, every blow that Geralt landed, every strike that he blocked only seemed to make his foe stronger and even more enraged.

To make matters worse, every blow was devastating, even with his Witcher enhancements. Geralt struggled to hold off the powerful blows and Brutish strength that this foe possessed. A slight movement behind the figure caught Geralts eye, he saw that Fjord had finally but was staring at both of them.

Taking his eyes off the shadowy figure cost Geralt as the figure took a

Geralt raised his hand into a sign. “Arrd,” he commanded and a burst of energy blew his attacker back through the other wall. Fjord ran over and helped pull Geralt onto his feet; Geralt was very glad he had practiced his signs with Caleb. 

“You okay?” Fjord asked, his voice filled with fear and worry.

“Yeah, thanks for the help,” Geralt grunted.

Before Fjord could respond. An even louder battle cry filled the room as the figure charged back into the room. Geralt pushed Fjord aside since the figure appeared to only be focusing on Witcher. Lighting flashed and in the brief moment light filled the room Geralt got a look at his attacker. It was a large pale-skinned woman with long messy black hair with braided bands. Her eyes were completely black with, similar to how Geralt looked after he had one of his combat or body enhancing potions. She was wearing very tribal-like clothes that were slightly tattered and a bit of a mess.

The one thing that caught Geralt's attention was now sticking out of the woman’s back. It could have been a trick of the Darkness and the storm but Geralt could have sworn the figure now had torn skeletal wings. The sight made Geralt freeze in fear a swift and powerful blow from the woman’s sword struck his side. It was enough to not only knock him off his feet but also disarm him.

With no time to move Geralt made another sign. “Quen,” he cried. Praying that Caleb had been right and his Quen sign was similar to the shield spell the wizard had demonstrated to him a few days ago.

A small bubble of energy surrounded him as the Witchers sign took effect and the woman’s sword hit the shield. Geralt poured his energy into the spell, but suddenly runes that Geralt had not seen in the dark lit up on the blade, and his shield started to crack under it.

Fjord could only watch in horror but another flash of Lighting struck and Fjord finally snapped out of his fearful stupor and he immediately recognised who Geralt was fighting. After all, there was only one-person Fjord had ever met with wings.

“Yasha?” Fjord gasped as he realized who was attacking Geralt.

Geralt's eyes widened as he watched his spell break and his shield shatter under the weight of the blade. He immediately rolled out of the way as the huge blade. Geralt barely had time to look up in at the woman as she raised her massive Great Sword above her head and Geralt stared at her in fear, unable to move.

The large woman brought her sword down, ready and fully prepared to end her fight with the Witcher once and for all. However, Fjord rushed forward and got in between the two combatants, with both arms held out to stop the two. “Yasha Stop,” he yelled and the Magicians Judge stopped inches before the Half-Orcs head.

Geralt wanted to yell at Fjord, he wanted the Half-Orc to run or at the very least get out of the way. But his body still would not listen to him and he was still frozen in fear. Geralt had no idea who this pale woman was but now that Fjord had gotten her attention. If he, a Witcher could only barely keep up with this woman’s strength than Fjord stood no chance.

“Yasha stop this please, he’s a friend,” Fjord claimed “and put those wings away,”

Surprisingly the woman lowered her massive blade and her wings folded in on themselves and dissapred. Geralt felt whatever was making unable to move or even act in defense fade. He immediately sprung to his feet and drew his Iron sword, though he did not know how much it would do against this woman.

However, Fjord held out a hand to Geralt to stop him. “Don’t,” he warned in a serious tone.

“She attacked me, she did something to me,” Geralt argued back “She’s going to kill you,”

Fjord looked back at Geralt and the Witcher noticed that any trace of fear was now gone from the warlocks’ face. “Its fine, Geralt this is Yasha. She’s a member of our group,” Fjord introduced “Yasha meet Geralt,”

“She attacked me,”

“I heard a scream and I saw you with that man. I thought…if I didn't act…” Yasha trailed off. Geralt was surprised by how soft and gentle this woman’s voice was. Considering the loud battle cry that she had let off only moments before.

“Then what?” Geralt demanded.

“Then Fjord would end up like Molly,” Yasha said sadly.

Fjord groaned and ran his hand over his face. “I’m not in trouble Yasha. Geralt's a friend Yasha, he’s traveling with us now,”

“But you screamed,”

Fjords face went pale “you heard that?”

“I’m pretty sure everybody heard it,” Geralt commented.

Fjord groaned again.

“Louder than and more feminine than a Banshee,” The Witcher added playfully.

“Can we please change the subject,” Fjord begged, “Yasha what are you doing out here?”

“I was…following the storm,” Yasha claimed “It led me to this house,”

“The storm led you here?” Geralt asked suspiciously.

Yasha nodded “This house is in the exact center of the storm. I believe…I believe the Stormlord wants me here,”

“Stromlord?”

“Have you never heard of him?” Yasha asked confused. Geralt shook his head.

“It’s the god Yasha worships. Yasha, Geralt's from another world or something,” Fjord explained “I don’t understand it myself, have Caleb explain it in the morning,”

“Really?” Yasha asked and looked over at Geralt.

“Apparently,” Geralt answered.

“Do you have flowers in your world?”

“Yes,”

“What kinds?”

Geralt tried to remember the different types of flowers, but other than the ones he used for his potions none came to mind.

“Lots. There's…uh…Dandailns and a variety of others,”

“How nice,” Yasha said, she then turned to look at Fjord “I’m sorry Fjord. I did not mean to scare you,” she apologised.

“It’s… it’s fine,” Fjord said as “Just next time try not to give me a heart attack,”

Yasha nodded in agreement. “I didn’t know your voice could go so high,”

“Please never mention it to the others,”

“Alright,” Yasha responded and looked over at Geralt “It's nice to meet you, sorry for attacking you,” She stretched out her hand.

“Hm,” Geralt responded but did not shake the hand. Yasha withdrew it and turned back to Fjord.

“Are the others here too?”

“Yeah, they’re back in the parlor or some other big room,” Fjord answered “I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you,”

“Then we should go to them,” Yasha said and she sheathed her sword before turning and walking back out into the hall.

The three started to make there way back through the house, knowing that the source of the noise was Yasha and not a ghost helped ease Fjord's nerves. He could not deny that having Yasha back was a relief, even if it was likely she would only stay till morning. Feeling more at ease Fjord allowed himself to relax a bit and the fear he had been feeling all night left his body. Suddenly he felt very cold and then stopped, frozen in place.

Geralt, felt his vibrating medallion become stronger and faster, he and Yasha both noticed that they could no longer hear Fjord walking and turned back to see the Half-Orc frozen in place.

“Something wrong?” Geralt asked.

Fjord didn’t respond, he looked down at himself and then lifted his hands and started to clench and unclench them. As if he were testing his mussels.

“Well, this is certainly different to what I’m used too,” Fjord said “I’ve never been a half breed before,”

“Fjord?” Yasha asked concerned and rested her hand on the hilt of the Magicians Judge.

Fjord looked up at the two and gave them a big toothy grin. “Apologises, but your friend is no longer available, you can call me Emmerich Telfer,” Emmerich introduced “I am a resident of the house and if you want him back you will help me and the others who are trapped in this house,” 

Yasha and Geralt stared at Fjord and Geralt’s medallion was vibrating at an alarming pace. Way more violently than it had the entire night. It meant only one thing, Fjord had been right, this house was haunted.

“Fuck,” Geralt swore.

* * *

**_A.N Witcher Medallions are made and enchanted to vibrate in the presence of magic or monsters. It doesn't normally vibrate in the presence of Humans, Elves, or Dwarves. If it did it was because they were casting spells. However, since the D &D world holds much more of a variety of different races than the Witcher world, it would make sense for it to register them as monsters as it was not enchanted to register them as anything else._ **

**_D &D Facts: Yasha is a Fallen Asumar Barbarian. As a Fallen Asumar Yasha has the Necrotic shroud ability. Anyone within 10ft of Yasha when she gets her wings out has to make a Charisma Saving Throw on a failed save all who see her bring out her wings become frightened of her. The_** _**Frightened creature/creatures can’t willingly move closer to the source of its fear. Which is why Geralt froze up.**_


End file.
